The Runner
by poxelda
Summary: While on a late night run, Mac is wounded when trying to help a woman escaping from an international criminal organization. Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mystery warning for language and violence
1. Chapter 1

Mac pushed himself harder. He was already past his personal best. Mac huffed, his legs burned and sweat-drenched him from head to foot. The team was between missions, and he was going crazy. A sharp stab in his side slowed him to a walk. He took deep breaths that fogged in the early morning air. Mac closed his eyes and wiped his forehead. His muscles were loose and warm. Mac glanced at his watch and did a quick calculation and nodded. Ten miles in 90 minutes, not bad. He rolled his shoulders as he contemplated the run back. He was going to regret it later.

Mac turned bracing for the return leg when something hurtled into him knocking him on his ass. He grunted and looked up. A girl, probably Riley's age stared at him with wild eyes. In the dim street lamp's eerie pale glow the girl looked like a ghost. She had short black hair shaved on one side of her head and straight on the other. She had a nose ring and multiple earrings in each ear. A tattoo of some sort of creature circled up her neck. Mac thought it was a snake or dragon. Her face looked pale, her lips dark. If it weren't for the bruising around her eyes and blood flowing down her cheek, Mac would have assumed she was a goth high schooler out too late on a Friday.

"Help me!" She yelled looking over her shoulder eyes wide as plates. Mac glanced behind her and saw four dark shadows. Two separated from the group moving to cut them off up the trail. Mac hopped to his feet grabbed the girl's arm and hauled her after him up the steep grassy hill beside the trail. Neither spoke, spending their energy on climbing. They reached the top. Mac pulled her across another path into woods that surrounded all of the running trails. They crashed into the woods, and Mac dragged her behind a boulder. She went to open her mouth, he held up a hand and shook his head. She nodded and dabbed at blood dribbling from a split lip. Mac noticed every finger had a ring and her hand shook with terror. He put a hand on her shoulder and offered her a reassuring smile. He didn't know if she could see the smile, but she did pat his hand and took deeper breaths.

From behind them, they heard men shouting. Mac frowned. They weren't speaking English, Russian? Polish? Ukranian, Mac decided the more he heard them talk. He felt the girl tighten and shake more.

"My name's Mac." He whispered in her ear. She looked at him surprised. Mac wondered why.

"Evelina." Her accent was Russian. They listened, the men's voices were getting faint. Mac crouched searching the area. He stood up and let out a pent-up breath.

"I think they're gone." He said softly. She stood up and moaned grabbing her abdomen. Mac crossed to her side. She stiffened and jerked away. Mac stopped held up his hands and stepped back into the open, "Are you ok? I can help you." She eyed him as she edged out of the forest. Her dark eyes darted around them like a skittish horse.

"Evelina?" Mac said softly. She jumped and looked at him. The desperation in her eyes almost broke his heart. She rattled off a long speech. Mac was sure it was Ukranian, but it was not one of the several languages he understood. She smiled turned and ran. Mac frowned shook his head and followed her at a slower pace. The way she was limping and holding her side he was pretty sure she wasn't going very far.

They reached the sidewalk along the street before she doubled over. Mac jogged toward her, his body yowling its own complaints about his exertion. Black shapes seemed to break from the shadows around her.

"No!" Mac yelled as he broke into a sprint, knowing he was already too late. He saw a silver gleam of metal and the four men were clubbing her. Mac didn't slow he shoved into them. They staggered. Mac nimbly stepped over Evalina's slumped body and blocked one swing. He kicked out grabbing the pipe. It was hefty, probably lead. He slammed the edge of it into the gut of the guy behind him then spun smashing the guy in front of him hard enough to drop him. Mac managed to block an attack from the guy to his left but not a devastating blow from his attacker on his right. The right side of his head exploded with a crunching white flare of pain. He fell to one knee and spun the pipe back and up catching the guy in his nuts. The guy in front of him kicked him in the chest.

Mac fell onto his back, his breath stolen by the blow. He kicked at the closest black mask then screamed as a pipe shattered his knee. From a mile away he felt more bangs against his bruised body before everything faded into black. Mac groaned and opened his eyes spitting out blood. He pushed onto his side and moaned. Evalina was gone. It hurt to breathe. Mac winced as he moved his arm to pull his phone out. His shoulder was killing him but still worked. Mac had to stop to breathe. Everything was blurry. He squinted as he hit speed dial. Mac laid his head on the cold cement listening to each ring with a new stab of pain.

"What's up, kid?" Jack didn't sound like Mac had woken him up, even though he knew he had. Mac tried talking but had to spit out a mouthful of blood which made him cough. He cried out and took in ragged breaths.

"Mac? What's wrong? Where are you?" Mac blinked.

"Jack...hurt. Need you…"

"I'm on my way, where are you?" Mac's eyes sagged with fatigue, "Mac, dammit, don't pass out on me, where are you?" Mac mumbled his best guess. He dropped the phone no longer able to keep his hand working,"...up! Angus! Wake up!' Mac moaned.

"Don'...mean…" Mac mumbled. He felt his head floating in a fog; he wanted to sleep.

"Don't make me be mean," Jack countered, "tell me what happened." Mac blinked. He started babbling but frowned pretty sure the words he wanted to say were stuck in his head and not coming out right. Jack didn't complain, only encouraged Mac to keep going when he paused or drifted. Mac blinked surprised to see the world brighten. Was it dawn already? Jack didn't answer so Mac figured he didn't have to say anything. He breathed out in relief. His chest hurt too much. He closed his eyes. When Jack decided to be mean, he stuck by it. Mac growled as a hand gently touched his sore shoulder. He blinked up into Jack's worried face.

"Hey," Mac mumbled anything else he would have said was lost in a cascade of pain as Jack ran his hands along Mac's body. Everywhere the man touched exploded into flame. Mac cried out and tried to push the hands away.

"I'm sorry, brother, I need to check." Mac arched his back and screamed when Jack touched his swollen knee. Mac gasped shaking with cold sweat.

"Jack." He begged reaching out. Jack's hand was warm as he took Mac's.

"It's ok, partner, just relax and breathe." Mac closed his eyes and complied shaking with cold. He heard Jack talking from far away. Jack's buzzing voice was muzzled like static, "Ok, help's on the way, kiddo. How are you doing?" Mac gasped and squeezed Jack's hand as his shoulder throbbed with movement. Jack moved closer and ran his hand gently through Mac's hair. Mac began to shiver only partly from the cold, "I'll be right back?" When he felt the older man move away, Mac began to pant with fear feeling alone, broken and afraid. When Jack sat back down, Mac grabbed the sleeve of his flannel shirt and bit back a sob. Tears trickled from his eyes most from pain, some from the shock wearing off.

"Easy, kiddo. You're ok." Jack said covering Mac with a scratchy warm blanket. It smelled of grease and sweat. It was heaven. Mac let out a deep breath relaxing as Jack gently rubbed his back, "So what happened?" Mac blinked trying to stay awake.

"Was a girl..four guys...had pipes...she's gone…" Mac paused having to catch his breath. Jack frowned getting the basic picture, "Ukranian...named Ev...Eval...Evalina." Mac could barely keep his eyes open. Jack looked up in relief as a Phoenix medic transport pulled up accompanied by TAC team Alpha. Doc Carl and Laura bent beside the two men. Doc Carl frowned turning to Laura.

"Call surgery to get ready." Jack frowned looking at the young doctor. Jack moved to stand up, but Mac jerked awake his eyes round with fear and pain. Jack sat back down. Mac squinted his eyes and cried out as Doc Carl managed to find all the same spots of agony as Jack had. Mac passed out after they lifted him on the gurney. Jack nodded at the med team as they took off squealing for Phoenix.

Jack strode to the APC and pulled out a TAC com and M-5. He turned to his team.

"Ok, we have four hostiles armed if I had to guess with some sort of pipe or bat. There is also a female victim, no ID yet. Spread out 2x2 four miles." The team nodded splitting into pairs. Jack nodded at Jenkins his number two, and they took their corner of the grid. After an hour Jack smelled it before he found her. Blood, a lot of it and the bowel smell of death. He glanced at Jenkins who nodded. They crept forward sweeping with their flashlights.

If Mac hadn't told him it had been a girl, Jack would have no way of knowing. She hadn't been beaten she'd been systematically obliterated. Jack took in the body and frowned. The killers had concentrated on her face and hands, anything that could be used to ID her.

"Damn," Jack muttered.

"Alpha one, this is Alpha four we have a torched car." Jack sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Acknowledged. Get all you can."

"Affirmative, Four out." Jack shook his head and looked at Jenkins.

"What the hell did the kid walk into?" Jenkins asked. Jack sighed and shook his head.

"I have no idea." Jack muttered, "yet."

"What the hell was he doing running at three in the morning?" Matty almost shouted at the others grouped in the war room. Jack rubbed his eyes and poured his third coffee. He shrugged. Bozer shook his head.

"I got one camera that caught part of the fight," Riley said looking up at the big screen as it flared into life. The picture was an exercise in frustration. It was a wobbly mess of grainy shades of gray.

"Can you clean that up?" Matty asked. Riley typed then frowned.

"That's the best I can do."

"There's Mac," Bozer said taking a step closer to the screen. They saw Mac half-dragging a girl across a parking lot. They vanished out of sight. Four shadows appeared and paused forming a square to talk. Jack narrowed his eyes.

"Ri, can you close up on this guy?"

"You know him?" Bozer asked. Jack shook his head; his face was grim.

"No, but I know that." He pointed to a pistol on the hip of the man closest to the light, "that's a Yarygin pistol, an MP-4 Grach, a favorite of Russian police forces." The others glanced at him.

"What the hell did Blondie run into?" Matty growled.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack paced the waiting room. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He turned disappointed to see the wrong door to the waiting room opened. Cage walked in looking tired and pale. Bozer chuckled.

"Short vacation." Cage shrugged.

"Going home isn't all it's cracked up to be." The Aussie replied. She glanced at Jack worried.

"Anything?" Riley spoke before Jack could open his mouth.

"They're getting him settled in a room. Dr. Sexy should be in any minute." Cage raised an eyebrow.

"Dr. Sexy." Riley smiled. Bozer rolled his eyes. Jack scowled stepping away from the conversation. He'd seen too much tonight to get into office gossip.

"Dr. Lazlo Grant," Bozer explained.

"I take it he's dreamy?" Cage asked amused. Jack whirled as the door to medical opened. Jack supposed he could understand why most of the women that met him swooned. The man was tall and slim, had deep brown eyes and square jaw. Other than the scruff that always seemed to shadow his chin, he could easily walk a runway or double for Superman. It didn't hurt matters he was one of the best surgeons in the world and made more per operation than Phoenix took in for an entire year. Jack was surprised he would dirty his hands in a little medical unit like this one, but he'd seen the man's discomfort around Matty. Jack figured she had some dirt on him.

"Well?" Jack growled. Dr. Grant narrowed his eyes. He had the arrogance of most good surgeons who knew how good they were. Grant didn't like Jack. Jack had nothing against the doc he just wanted to shatter that perfect square jaw. The Delta didn't know why, but the man's presence always felt like he had something on his shoe he couldn't scrape off.

"Surgery went well. Mac's…" Dr. Grant looked along his nose at Jack and automatically simplified his answer. Jack's eyes narrowed, and his hands balled into fists. He knew he wouldn't understand the medicalese, but there was no need to be a dick about it. Grant cleared his throat, "He required a total knee replacement. The ends of his fibula and femur were shattered. Surgery went well. I expect he'll wake up in a few hour…" A loud crash sounded through the doors to the unit.

"Are you sure about that?" Jack snarled as he turned to sprint down the hall. He was almost in Mac's room when he heard his partner scream,

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Jack skidded to a stop his heart pounded.

"Oh God, no." He whispered. The others caught up with him. He held out his arms. They heard a roar then a series of crashes followed by alarms sounding. Jack's mouth was dry. The familiar sound of objects sailing across the room accompanied by a female yell of pain and the slap of hand on flesh.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Mac's voice was distorted by terror, pain, rage and something else Jack had only heard once and had hoped he would never hear again.

"You need to stay out here." He told the others. His voice had taken the command voice of a cold Delta. Bozer and Riley nodded deferring to Jack's knowledge of all things MacGyver.

"Jack, I don't…" Cage began.

"I don't think you understand…" Grant chimed in pushing past Jack. Jack moved fast as a striking cobra. Grant found himself on his knees his arm pulled up behind his back.

"No, you don't understand. Stay. Out." The others stared at him in shock.

"Mac, look…" Sally said softly.

"Damnit," Jack muttered. He slowly opened the door. Sally stood out of reach of Mac blood trickling down her chin. Her eyes were wide, and Jack saw fear in them. Jack shot her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Mac stood by the bed in a hospital gown. His wild searched for threat and escape. He stood swaying, leaning against the bed. Blood streamed down his arm from where he'd pulled out IVs.

Jack had seen Mac pale before, but never this pale. The kid's chest was heaving. Jack could tell that he wasn't quite awake yet and winced knowing precisely into which hellhole his brain had dragged him. On Mac's right leg was a metal brace that had a joint that allowed for movement while keeping pressure off his healing bones.

"Sally," Jack said in a soft, calm voice. Mac jerked around and skittered back. He bent and yanked the headboard off the bed holding it in front of him partly as a shield and partly as a weapon. Jack did not doubt that if he moved too fast, Mac would attack him with all the strength he had left.

"Jack, what's going on?" Sally whispered. Both kept their eyes on the distraught blonde. Jack almost tripped over an IV pole with a smashed pump. He slowly stepped over it holding his hands up where Mac could see them.

"Sally, move slow and easy to the door."

"Jack…"

"Sally, I know you love Mac, but this isn't something you can help with, not yet anyway, ok. Close the door after you and cut the power to the room, so the alarms go off. I need you to call TAC."

"TAC?"

"Sally, I can't have anyone come in here until I let them in."

"Ok." Sally slowly did as Jack asked. Jack didn't move until the lights in the room went out, and the shriek of the monitors went silent. Mac backed up almost collapsing as he tried to put weight on his braced leg.

"Mac, he's not here," Jack said softly. He tried a step forward. Mac scurried back until he hit the wall. His breathing tripled in rate. Mac leaned forward. Jack swallowed and paused. He heard the clump of boots outside and winced. He hadn't told Sally that he wanted a silent approach. Mac screamed and lashed out with the headboard. The TV in the corner of the room shattered into pieces.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Mac's voice was weak but still held a dangerous level of fear and despair that broke Jack's heart.

"Mac, it's Jack, remember? You made it out. You aren't in Farah, Kilov isn't here. It's just you and me, buddy." Mac's eyes darted around the room but seemed to rest on Jack longer. Jack hoped that was a good sign. His breathing was a broken rasp, "Look, kiddo. You're in America, at Phoenix medical…"

"Why?" Mac demanded edging away. His voice was full of a cold distrust Jack had hoped never to hear again.

"Look at your knee; you hurt it last night…" Mac glanced at his leg and fell back against the wall. Jack wondered how much longer adrenalin would keep the kid standing. Jack backed away, "Look, there's windows, sunlight. You aren't in a cave, your safe...He's not here." Jack stepped back so Mac could step closer to the window. Mac inched closer to the window until he could look out and see the trees and green hills of the building's grounds. Mac stepped into the sunlight and dropped the headboard falling forward. He leaned against the side of the window eyes closed shaking. It took all of Jack's control not to step forward.

"See, you're safe. Farar was a long time ago, kiddo. It's over, Kilov isn't here. You're safe, I promise." Mac looked at Jack through his bangs blinking and hurting. Jack could see he was waking up from the sedation. Mac always had weird reactions to meds after last night something must have brought up the worst experience of Mac's life. Jack grimaced. Mac had never talked about it even to Jack. It had almost driven Mac insane, Jack never pressed. He'd hoped it'd never swim to the surface again. Damnit. Mac shook his head and started taking deeper breaths. He blinked and took in the room. He stared at Jack a long minute.

"Jack, is it really you?" Mac asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Yeah, buddy. You're safe, I promise." Mac slid down the wall and held his middle as he landed on his hip. Mac groaned. Jack took a step forward. Mac flinched and slipped back. Jack crouched slowly. Mac's eyes raked over the older man looking for any sign of threat.

"He...He's really gone…" Mac's voice fell to a constricted whisper.

"Yeah, he was buried in the cave, remember." Mac crossed his arms over his chest and curled forward his eyes closed.

"W...we...we're at Phoenix...in LA…" Mac murmured.

"Yep." Jack heard voices at the door and swore under his breath. Matty. Mac's head snapped up, and he stared at Jack with a combination of panic and betrayal. Shit, "That's Matty...you remember? Riley, Cage, Bozer…" Mac's eyes opened more at Bozer's name.

"I...i...is he…"

"He's fine, Mac. Kilov drugged you, he lied remember?" Mac closed his eyes and rubbed the heel of his hand across his forehead.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"I need out." Mac looked at him his eyes wide and desperate.

"Ok, brother, just relax a minute, ok? I'm going to get a wheelchair." Jack waited until Mac nodded then slowly moved back until he reached the door. He slid out and leaned against it taking a deep breath. A chorus of voices surrounded him. Jack held up his hand.

"Jack, what the hell is going on?" Matty demanded her face red with anger, "I hear TAC called here and came down to see what is happening only to find out they won't let me in the room. What…"

"Matty, please…" Jack started.

"Don't please me, Dalton…"

"Matty! Stand down!" Jack snapped in a commanding tone that allowed no argument. Matty snapped her head back as if Jack had slapped her. She narrowed her eyes and nodded.

"What do you need?" She asked her voice soft. Jack nodded his gratitude.

"I need a wheelchair and everyone to clear a path out to the Shelby."

"What…"

"Out of the question!"

"QUIET!" Matty bellowed. Everyone's voice stopped in midbreath, "What then?"

"I'm gonna take him to the beach until he settles down, then home. I'll call when we have everything settled there. In the meantime, we have to figure out what about this attack triggered him." Jack said. Matty nodded.

"Ok, we'll take care of it, you focus on Mac."

"Matty…" Jack stopped unable to put into words his appreciation. She offered him a warm smile.

"Take care of your partner." Jack nodded. Sally wheeled up a wheelchair. She looked at Jack worried. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"He's gonna be fine, Sally. He just needs some time to catch his bearings again." She nodded. Jack slowly opened the door and eased in the wheelchair.

"Mac, it's just me." He said gently. He looked back to see everyone walk down the hall. Jack smiled at Jenkins shoving Dr. Sexy ahead of him as the man blustered about doctor's privilege.

Mac sat in the pool of sunlight his head back and eyes closed as if he were showering clean in the bright, warm rays. He looked at Jack. The blond was calmer probably from the remaining sedation still in his system. Jack pushed the wheelchair as close as Mac would allow then put on the brakes. Jack backed off gritting his teeth. Mac crawled forward his braced knee dragging behind him. He shook as he lifted himself into the chair. Mac's head flopped forward.

"Are you ready to go?" Mac rubbed his left shoulder and nodded at Jack. Jack didn't move. Mac grunted bending to unbrake the chair then wheel it using his hands. Jack shoved aside debris and equipment then held the door open. Jack let out a long breath relieved. Matty was true to her word. The hall was deserted. Mac crept out studying the corridor a long minute before tentatively easing out. Moving slowly, Mac examined every inch of his environment as he wheeled forward. The kid relaxed more when Mac was outside in the sun. He sighed and leaned his head back.

"I'm gonna go get the car, ok?" Mac nodded. Jack jogged across the lot and in seconds pulled up in front of Mac. Jack had put the roof down and opened the door, not getting out of the car. Jack forced himself to look away as Mac huffed awkwardly settling into the passenger's seat. Mac shoved away the wheelchair and slammed the door shut. He let out a long breath and leaned back his eyes closed. Jack smiled as he left Phoenix driving at mortal speed for the beach. 

Jack parked as close to the sandy beach as he could. The noise of the ocean was a soothing background noise to the shouts and murmurs of conversation. Jack leaned back feeling himself relax as he watched surfers and swimmers duck in and out of the water. He glanced at Mac who again had his head tilted back basking in the sun. Jack winced seeing how pale really was. Splotches of blue, purple and reds seemed to spill into his white waxy skin from black fingerprints. Jack looked away. The kid should be in the hospital, but Jack knew it would be awhile before he was comfortable being touched again.

"One of these days you're gonna have to talk about it, brother," Jack said softly. Mac didn't turn to face him, but Jack could see his Adam's apple bob. Jack didn't press he let out a deep breath, "Do you know what brought all this back?" The silence between them stretched long enough Jack wasn't expecting an answer.

"I think I saw him." Mac's voice was so quiet Jack barely heard it over the beach. Jack whipped off his shades and turned to face Mac. Mac flinched at the quick movement. Jack gritted his teeth and fought to keep his hand on his lap.

"That's impossible; he's dead." Mac swallowed and slowly turned to meet Jack's eyes. His eyes were watery and pleaded for something Jack didn't have to give.

"We never saw the body." Mac barely managed. Jack took a deep breath and rubbed his closed eyes.

"Mac, we never saw the body because there wasn't enough left to identify. There is absolutely no way Kilov survived, trust me." Mac's lip quivered, and he turned away. Jack leaned forward resting his forehead against the steering wheel. And there it was, the crux of the problem. Mac had been out of his mind when Jack's team was finally able to rescue him. He'd been drugged, beaten, tortured and…Jack felt bile burn the back of his throat. Mac had never said, but Jack had seen the bleeding and bruises on his naked body. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened. The sick bastard responsible had been Yakov Kilov, a former Colonel in the KGB who had remained in Afghanistan after being disgraced for the savagery he rained down on the villages his troops passed through. Kilov was hunted by every civilized country, and even a few brutal dictatorships wanted him dead.

Rumors of him being alive had haunted him and Mac off and on over the years. No matter what Jack said, Mac would never believe it until he saw Kilov's corpse for himself. Jack squinted out at the far blue horizon watching some gauzy clouds drift across the darker line of the ocean. If he had known how much it would have helped his partner he would have saved the man's body or the scraps that remained. There might have been at least a part of the man's face. Jack sighed and glanced at Mac. Even if the cave hadn't caved in around them smearing Kilov under thousands of pounds of debris, even if he handed Mac the bastard's head on a plate, Jack wasn't sure Mac would trust it and let it go. He pushed this one so deep it was a ball of magma waiting for release.

Kilov had become the boogy man in Mac's sub-conscious. Jack rubbed his forehead. He knew a lot of what was in there and this hurt far deeper than any of that. Mac's brain only fed the fear making Kilov an oppressive harsh shadow. Jack knew if the kid would open up, dump out the shit it would take time but would heal, but Mac resisted that as much as he had Kilov. Jack frowned. Something had dredged this up, and Jack knew it couldn't be just some random attack in a parking lot.

"Tell me about last night. What happened?" Mac told him about Evalina and the fight. Jack nodded and frowned.

"Where in all that did you think you saw Kilov?" Mac flinched at the name. Mac looked at him. His brow furrowed; the kid was in agony.

"I don't know...I just know I..I...I saw...him...lean over me...and…" Mac closed his eyes and suddenly lurched forward.

"Shit!" Jack grabbed a fast food paper bag and held it in front of Mac's chin as the kid puked. Mac automatically reached out and grabbed Jack's forearm as his gut painfully spasmed. Jack put his hand on Mac's shoulder not liking the shaking or heat he felt through the hospital gown. With a final cry of pain, Mac finished and pulled away. Jack handed Mac a clean napkin then got out and threw the bag away. When he got back in, Mac leaned back half conscious. Jack slowly reached out and touched the kid's hand. Instead of the jerk away he expected, Mac reached out and clung to his sleeve. Jack could see Mac's body start to shudder. Jack slowly scooted closer. Mac's face caved in, and he leaned over latching onto Jack sobbing into the older man's shoulder. Jack let out a breath he'd been holding and felt his body relax for the first time since Mac had called him. If the kid could let Jack in this much, maybe they could finally slay this particular demon.

"Shhh, easy brother. I got ya, I promise." He said over and over tucking the blond's head under his chin, "I gotcha, I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

Mac gasped in pain as he bent and slid his well-worn jeans over his swollen knee. He laid back panting feeling cold sweat drip down his face. Mac forced his beaten body to keep moving. His fractured ribs screamed as he bent and refastened the metal brace. He sat on the side of the bed and rubbed his sore shoulder. Strained muscles, nothing broken, Dr. Grant had said. Mac leaned forward letting the soft air blowing in his bedroom window cool his damp skin. He winced as he rubbed his eyes. Mac was tired of pain. He was tired of memories. He was tired...just tired. He shook his head. Between the sedation medicine and concussion, his emotions were all over the place.

Mac grimaced pulling his navy T-Shirt over his head. He rubbed his aching chest. Considering he faced four guys with lead pipes, he'd gotten off reasonably well. Mac thought of Evaline and the terror in her eyes as she rattled off Russian at him. Mac frowned. Why had she been so terrified? What was she escaping? An image of a blurry face looking down at him blared across his vision. Mac's eyes widened and his back arched. He scanned his room his heart pounding fast and loud in his ears. He forced himself to take deep breaths. There is no way it is Krilov, Mac told himself. He believed Jack, but there was always that niggling fear, shame that wouldn't go away. Mac found himself leaning forward his arms across his chest. He shook his head. No...he will not go there. Never there. Mac coughed, his throat dry. No, there was no way it was Kilov, but someone loomed over him when he was semi-conscious. Mac didn't know what about the blurry face reminded him of Kilov. Maybe there was a clue there? Mac cried out and leaped as someone knocked on his bedroom door. He leaned forward and wiped his forehead.

"C...come in!" Mac cleared his throat hating how it warbled in the middle leaking out fear. Jack peeked in the door. Mac smiled, "C'mon in Jack. I'm fine. The sedation's worn off." Jack narrowed his eyes studying Mac. Mac's eyes darted away. He had no idea how he was going to face the others. His over reaction was stupid. He couldn't stop the flinch as Jack sat beside him. Mac knew Jack noticed, but he didn't say anything.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather rest for the night?" The older man asked. Mac shook his head and sighed. He looked over at Jack. He knew Jack could see the thin string holding him together.

"Evalina was terrified, Jack. Something is going on, and her loved ones deserve answers." Jack gave him a penetrating look.

"Are you sure they're the ones that need answers." Mac looked down and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know it isn't Krilov." Mac murmured. He heard Jack let out a pent-up breath.

"But?" Jack prompted after a long silence. Mac met his gaze and shook his head.

"I don't know. There was a guy who looked down at me. I couldn't make out his face...I think he might have said something in Russian?" Mac shook his head and leaned forward rubbing his temples.

"And this made you think of Krilov?" Mac squirmed under his partner's worry. Mac shrugged and wiped his face with his hands.

"Did you get the crutches?" Mac frowned when Jack looked away.

"Yeah, Sally dropped them off. Are you sure you can use them with your bum shoulder?"

"I'll manage. Why didn't Sally come in to see me?"

"You wanted to see Sally?" Jack asked surprised. He stood up and reached out the door pulling in a set of metal crutches. Mac watched him confused. The truth was he didn't want or need to see Sally, but why was Jack so evasive?

"Why are you acting weird?" Mac asked. Jack paused and looked down and tapped his fist against the door frame.

"The truth is, Mac. She didn't want to see you." Mac leaned back.

"Why?"

"What do you remember?" Mac felt his heart drop.

"What did I do?"

"It isn't your fault; you were messed up on the sedation and freaking out big time."

"Jack…"

"You slapped her, gave her a bloody lip. She'll be fine." Mac sighed. Sally had always been ready to help him no matter what the circumstances. Mac had to find a way to make it up to her. Although Mac admitted to himself, the thought of never dealing with the sneaky nurse did have a certain allure. Voices erupted in the house, breaking his train of thought., "the others are here, you ready?" Mac looked up and nodded. He pulled himself up and swung into motion. His shoulder screamed at him with every movement. Mac gritted his teeth and braced himself. He wasn't ready for everyone freezing and staring at him as if he was about to explode. Mac forced a smile.

"Hey, guys." He said. Bozer grinned and stepped forward giving Mac a gentle hug. Mac consciously kept himself from stiffening. The round of hugs he got from Riley and Cage almost physically hurt. He shook and broke out into a clinging cold sweat. Cage paused eyeing him with a frown. Mac managed a semblance of a smile, "I need to sit down." He murmured. Cage smiled and helped Riley clear a path for Mac to hop and slide to the couch. Boze helped him sit.

"Thanks." He said leaning back taking a deep breath. Bozer and Riley grinned down at him. Cage had a speculative look that made him twitch. Mac glanced over at Matty who was studying him closely. She and Jack shared a look. Mac rubbed his forehead. Jack had told their boss, marvelous.

"So what did you find?" Mac asked sharply snapping everyone from their observations about him. Riley sat beside him. Mac moved away before he realized it. Riley glanced at him then looked at Jack. Jack sat down on the other side of Mac making sure to leave room between them.

"We ran the VIN of the burnt car to a Karen and Henry Oswald. Their last known address was Kiev, Ukraine." Mac leaned back frowning.

"Mac?" Bozer asked. Jack smiled. Bozer was watching Mac's every move waiting for any sign of distress.

"The four guys last night were speaking Ukrainian...Riley, did you run them through Interpol?"

"I ran them through everything; I couldn't find anything except this." She pulled up a Facebook page that showed an average couple arm and arm in front of a mobile home.

"Had a great vacation, great to see Europe, love Kiev…" Jack read. He glanced at Mac.

"Exactly what you'd expect to find," Jack said. Bozer shot a gaze at the men.

"Why are you saying that like it means something?"

"It's the kind of generic thing someone puts out there to cover a lot of travel," Matty said.

"So Mr. and Mrs. Soccer Mom are spies?" Riley asked. Jack shrugged.

"I've seen weirder, one time in Berlin there was this cat breeder…"

"Jack!" Matty snapped.

"What? Why do you always yell at me?" Matty rolled her eyes. She sat back farther in the recliner.

"If they are spies, what do they want here?" Matty asked.

"And what do they have to do with this Evangelina…"

"Evalina." Mac automatically corrected. He looked over at Riley then down at his feet, "Riley, show me the crime scene photos."

"Oh no, bud! You don't have…" Jack began. Mac closed his eyes but couldn't help ducking back at the man's raised voice. Jack took a calming breath, "Mac, you don't know…" Mac smiled weekly at Jack then turned to Riley. Riley's eyes darted around the room finally resting on Jack. Jack shrugged and leaned forward rubbing his face with his right hand. Riley nodded and pulled up the photos watching Mac out of the corner of her eye.

Mac leaned forward and stared at the screen his face impassive. The others shared worried glances.

"Mac? You ok?" Jack asked quietly. Mac didn't answer. His eyes had a faraway look. Jack straightened, "Mac?" Mac looked at him blankly then blinked he smiled. 

"It isn't her."

"What?" Jack said his eyebrows raised. Mac leaned forward and pointed at the laptop's screen.

"See this? It's the wrong kind of jacket. And her jeans were darker."

"But Mac, it was dark out, and there wasn't a lot of light," Matty said standing up. Mac turned to face the diminutive woman.

"Did the coroner find earrings or a nose ring?"

"No, nothing like that," Riley said. Mac sat back and rubbed his furrowed brow.

"Evalina had six earrings in each ear, one in her nose and a knuckle duster's worth on each hand." The room was quiet as everyone processed that.

"You know, Mac. Nick and I have been working on a new facial reconstruction program. I bet we could build a composite." Bozer said. Mac nodded. He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Why don't the rest of us make up something to eat?" Cage asked. Matty and Jack looked at her like she was insane. Cage tipped her head toward the kitchen. Jack glanced over at Mac who was holding his head in his hands.

"I agree, you need to eat something, bud." Mac nodded, "and take some pain pills." Mac looked up at Jack with a raised eyebrow but didn't argue. Jack shook his head and joined Matty and Cage in the kitchen. He crossed his arms and waited, keeping a subtle eye on his partner.

"What is it?" Matty demanded. Cage glanced at Mac and turned to Jack.

"This is not good for him."

"No kidding," Jack growled. Cage leaned forward and put a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"No, Jack, I mean really bad for him. His reaction yesterday...he saw or knows something about this but can't remember it clearly. His brain is trying to tell him, but he's stuck somewhere in his past that…"

"So what's your point?" Jack snarled glaring at her. Cage drew back.

"We need to help him remember."

"No," Jack said narrowing his eyes.

"How would we do that?" Matty asked.

"No, Matty." His voice had gone calm, flat. Matty met his deadly gaze with a sad smile.

"Jack, we won't do anything to hurt him…"

"Good, nice talk." Jack spun to go in the living room. Cage shot Matty an exasperated look. Before Matty could reply, Bozer called out.

"Gather 'round, we got us a picture." Mac stared at the face of the girl that he'd run into last night. The amalgam of pictures didn't show the life in her dark eyes or her fear. Riley spun the laptop.

"Kinda got a Goth vibe," Jack said studying Mac. The kid looked exhausted.

"Riley?" Matty asked. Riley spun the laptop back as it beeped.

"Looks like we have Evalina Vadymivna Korzh. She and her sister went missing from Moscow two years ago. Here's her sister, Valeriva Josypivna Korzh." Riley pulled up a missing person's report from Interpol. Mac sat back frowning.

"That's not right," Mac said thoughtfully. Everyone looked at him.

"Out with it Baby Einstein." Matty snapped. Mac shook his head.

"She had a tattoo on her neck, a serpent or dragon."

"Maybe she ran away and thought it was cool?" Bozer asked frowning at Mac. Mac rubbed his face and shook his head.

"No, Boze that's not it, I don't think it was one she wanted."

"Mac?" Cage asked in exasperation. Mac looked up surprised as if he'd forgotten the others were in the room with him.

"Human traffickers give women tattoos to show ownership," Mac said sadly. The others stared at him.

"White slavery?" Cage asked.

"Makes sense. Mr. and Mrs. Soccer mom put out an ad for a housekeeper or maid. The girls apply and find themselves trapped and sold." Jack shook his head. He wanted to hurt someone.

"How the hell are we going to find Evalina?" Bozer asked. His face darkened, "Or is she dead too." Mac leaned forward stifling a moan. The others shared a worried look. He shook his head.

"I think she got away." Mac said looking up, "I think she was here to try to save her sister." Mac looked over at the laptop his brain repainting the bloody victim from last night, "only she got there too late." Mac's voice ended in a whisper. Everyone was quiet a long minute.

"So what's our next step?" Riley asked.

"Mr. and Mrs. Soccer mom." Jack murmured looking down at Mac. He turned his gaze to the others. They took the silent hint and packed up their stuff.

"It's late. We'll work it tomorrow." Matty said. Mac stared into space long after Riley stowed the laptop in her bag. The others nodded at Jack and filed out quietly talking amongst themselves. Bozer said he'd crash at Riley's and they'd try to find out what the snake tattoo meant. Jack nodded his thanks. After they were gone, he stood in front of Mac, arms crossed studying his friend.

Mac looked haunted, distant and in a pained fog. He hadn't rested since surgery. Jack sighed. He could feel tension coil within Mac. He doubted the kid could relax enough to sleep. He moved to Mac's side.

"Mac?" He asked gently. Mac still stared into space. Jack reached out and touched his shoulder. Mac exploded with a frightened cry and lept sideways to the other side of the couch. His eyes dilated, he gasped for air, and his face creased into a mask of terror.

"Easy, kiddo. It's just me." Mac nodded but still studied the room. He frowned.

"Where'd everybody go?" He asked confused. Mac shied away from Jack's scrutiny as if he could physically feel it.

"Where'd you go?" Mac hung his head in his hands and shook his head.

"It doesn't matter." He whispered. Jack was about to argue then thought better of it.

"You need to rest and take some pills." Mac gave him a tired half-grin.

"I thought you were getting them?" Jack rolled his eyes and got them. Mac stared at the pills a long minute. Jack could feel his dread.

"I'll be here, kiddo." Mac didn't look up only nodded and took the pills. He ate half the turkey sandwich then sank back eyes closed. Jack sidled to his side and paused, watching for tenseness in Mac's body. Mac only turned his head away.

"C'mon, buddy. Let me help you to bed?" Mac nodded and sat up. He put his right arm on Jack's shoulder, and Jack carefully lifted him. Mac dangled loose-limbed. Jack grunted and picked the blond up, "You are so paying for my chiropractor." Mac didn't say anything or move. Jack realized the kid had either fallen asleep or passed out. He sighed and brought his brother to bed. He took off the brace and Mac's jeans. Jack unwrapped Mac's knee wincing at the lines the wrinkled pressure bandage had left.

"Dr. Grant had done an excellent job. When his Aunt had her knee replaced she'd ended up with a thick purple scar that looked like a railway crossing. Mac's incision was a neat zig-zag tied with floss-thick black thread. It was swollen, but not reddened. Jack put cream on the incision and elevated Mac's leg on a pile of pillows. Mac mumbled and turned his head. Jack frowned and tucked the blankets around Mac. He was about to turn the lights off when Mac's mumblings got louder.

"N...no...wo...n't get...way...mrem...ber…" Jack pulled folded clothes off Mac's recliner and slid it closer. He leaned over and gently pulled Mac's bangs out of his face. Mac's face screwed up in pain, and he jerked his head away with a frightened cry. Jack scowled and took his hand. Tears ran down Mac's face as his fist painfully wrung Jack's arm. Jack reached out and began to softly rub the kid's forearm with a relaxed, slow rhythm, "Jack…" The word was almost a sob of relief. Mac rolled over and curled into a ball pulling Jack's hand to his chest as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling into an abyss.


	4. Chapter 4

"Nothing!" Bozer ranted as he tossed his tablet on the table with more force than he intended. He stood up and ran both hands through his hair. Riley watched him from the recliner where she sat curled up with her favorite blanket. Her apartment was nicer than one she would ever have expected to live in thanks to Bozer. She sipped her hot cocoa and glanced at the clock. They'd left Mac's around 10:00 now it was closing in on 4:00 in the morning.

"Bozer, take a breath," Riley said her eyes sympathetic. Bozer shook his head and crossed the room. He sat on the ottoman in front of the recliner.

"What do you think is going on with Mac?" Bozer asked. Riley frowned and let out a deep breath.

"I don't know, Boze, but I'm sure Jack can handle it." Bozer huffed.

"What if he can't? I think he's floundering too." Bozer said. Riley studied him and offered a half-smile.

"Are you sure that's what's really bugging you?"

"What is that suppose to mean?" Riley sat her laptop aside and leaned closer.

"Boze, sometimes when it's just Jack and Mac you…"

"You think I'm jealous?" Bozer's voice was not as defensive as Riley expected. Boze smiled at her surprised reaction. He stood up and paced, "I was, especially when they first came back from Afghanistan. Mac was so, screwed up. Riley, there were times he would just disappear not go anywhere physically, but in his head. I had to watch as his eyeballs turned inside and tore him apart in ways...I have no idea what happened over there, but I know if it wasn't for Jack...we wouldn't have Mac. It took me awhile to see that and longer to accept it. Especially when I thought you all worked at the same think tank, I mean Jack at a think tank?"

"I know, right?" Riley chuckled. Boze sat down again his face losing any sign of amusement.

"I knew Mac was keeping a lot from me. He'd come home hurt and bleeding with the lamest excuses...and would never talk to me like we used to. I know we aren't kids anymore, but when I first moved down here, we had a life. We'd go surfing, hang out with Penny...all that went away and if Mac was here, half the time he wasn't. Now I know why, and I'm not jealous of Jack and Mac at all. Just like Mac is there for me, Jack is there for him."

"So what's the problem?"

"I..I've never seen Mac react the way that he did this afternoon. I've seen him hurt pretty bad, I've seen the nightmares, the whole PTSD thing...but this was something up another level. I'd never seen Sally afraid of Mac. I'd never seen Jack so afraid." Riley blinked in surprise.

"Afraid? He wasn't afraid…"

"You didn't notice how close he watched Mac?"

"He was in Papa-Jack mode; you were watching him pretty closely too."  
"Ok, you got me there. But I'm talking about the way they were sitting. Jack made a point of sitting a distance from Mac; he's never done that before." Riley realized Bozer was right.

"You think it's because he was afraid?" Riley frowned and shook her head.

"Not of Mac, for Mac."

"Boze, I'm not sure I follow." Bozer waved his hands slapping the blade of his right into the palm of his left at each point.

"At the hospital, Mac screamed "Don't touch me," Jack made sure no one was in sight when they left Phoenix, Jack has been extra careful moving around Mac especially when approaching to touch him, and Mac totally freaked out when we hugged him." Riley sighed. She had noticed how stiff Mac had gotten when she had hugged him. Riley had put it down to Mac hurting. Looking back, she had seen a shadow of panic in his eyes.

"What do you think happened to him?" She asked softly. Her gut churned as her gut conjured the unimaginable. She met Bozer's eyes and saw the same horror in his eyes.

"You don't think…" Bozer started. His voice strangled off, and Riley swore he went a few shades paler.

"We don't know anything, Boze." Riley said putting a hand on his forearm. She could feel him shaking with anger. Boze looked away but not before she saw tears in his eyes.

"It's the only thing that makes sense, the only thing he wouldn't talk to Jack about," Bozer whispered. Riley closed her eyes and shuddered at images of Mac being violated in the worst way. She shook her head against the memory of his voice screaming "don't touch me." She put her head in her hand.

"Oh my god." She murmured unable to stop tears from trickling down. Bozer leaned forward and hugged her. After a minute they separated. Bozer stepped away.

"Let's get back to this Ukrainian snake thing." Bozer in a hoarse voice. Riley nodded and pulled her laptop over and began typing. They worked in silence for another half hour.

"All I keep finding are these earthen fortifications that criss-cross the country that were built back in ancient times and repurposed as forts in WWII. They were called Serpent or Dragon walls." Bozer sighed rubbing his eyes. Riley leaned forward.

"Look!" Riley spun the laptop. She found an ornate design of a ZV stylized into a dragon."Since they've been fighting to keep Russia out of their borders the economy in the Ukraine has dropped, and human trafficking has skyrocketed. Most victims are shipped all over Europe and Asia, but the FBI has been looking into one group they think is operating out of LA, the Zmiyevi Valy. That translates to Serpent's wall."

"You think this is the tattoo Mac saw?" Bozer asked. Riley nodded studying the design.

"It's been found in a few of the flophouses the FBI raided." 

"Any of the victims give any info?" Riley gave him a sour look.

"They never found any victims alive." Bozer let out a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.

"So it's down to Mac, again."

"Yeah."

"This sucks."

"Yeah."

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

The trio rode in silence. Jack had put the Shelby's top down even though the morning was damp with mist. Mac winced as he moved his right leg. He was surprised at how swollen it was this morning. It also itched and had a rash circling it. Mac explained that he was probably allergic to the elastic in the pressure bandage, but Jack wanted it looked at immediately.

Cage had come over to talk to Jack. Mac studied the pair. He didn't know what it had been, but the tension between the two was more oppressive than the moist air spitting at them as they drove. Matty called. She had a possible location for the Oswald's. One of the trails on the other side of the hill from Mac's house had a small little used private RV park that wouldn't be open until Memorial Day. Was that where Evalina had run from? Mac stretched his legs across the back seat and leaned his head back. The morning sun was bright enough he needed his Raybans even on such a misty day.

Jack wanted to head over to the RV park immediately didn't want to leave Mac alone with Cage. He suspected Cage wouldn't hesitate to mess with the kid's brain. She had even offered to stay with Mac, but Jack narrowed his eyes and growled something Mac thought sounded like, "nice try." Mac was trying to massage away a massive headache. He knew Jack wasn't thrilled with the idea of him gamboling into danger. Jack had gone with the best scenario. Mac would have gone anyway but was glad not to have to fight his partner on this one. Mac hoped Cage had the sense not to push Jack.

Mac grimaced glad he wore the dark shades. All night he'd dreamed of being restrained, gruff Russian voices, laughter, pain...Mac forced his body to relax and took deep breaths. He had no idea how many times he'd woken up screaming. Jack was there, as always. He never showed impatience or frustration or blamed Mac, but Mac managed to do all of that for the both of them. Jack had offered a hug but Mac couldn't without thinking about...Mac crossed his arms and shook forcing the memories away with a brutal will. This did not go unnoticed, of course.

"Mac, you cold?" Mac smiled back gratefully. His partner had asked if he was ok without actually asking if he was ok in front of Cage.

"No...No, I'm fine." The idea of the roof covering him seemed to suck away all the oxygen around him. Mac rubbed away the cold sweat bubbling on his forehead. Jack nodded, but Mac could feel the man keep a closer eye on him.

"I can't believe Dr. Grant lived so close to you." Cage said.

"No kidding." Jack growled. Mac smiled. Jack didn't like the pompous ass. Mac agreed with him although he'd only dealt with the man one other time when he'd had to have his shoulder essentially rebuilt. Most of that time Mac had been in a fog, which according to Jack was the best time to deal with "Dr. Sexy." The trio had gone to an awkward breakfast then drove the five miles to Dr. Grant's sprawling almost-a-mansion.

It was a brown monstrosity with a long gated drive that curled around a small human-made lake. Windows of all sizes and shapes poked out from niches that didn't seem to match the walls to which they were attached. If every window entered a room, then this place had hundreds of small rooms stacked like children's blocks.

"Damn, that looks like something spit out by Martha Stewart's alcoholic cat." Jack mumbled as he smoothly drove along the tarred drive.

"It's supposed to be a landmark historical sight, built by one of the old robber barons." Cage read from a map of LA she held in her hands.

"I could see it as a stash house." Jack said. Mac only half listened. He took off his shades and studied a small group of girls sitting in a circle on the lawn. Two men in suits with TAC radios stood at attention over them. The oldest a blonde watched the Shelby drive up and pulled the girls closer. As far as they were away, Mac could still feel their fear.

"Bud? You with us?" Jack asked frowning. Mac blinked. They'd pulled up to the front door. Mac slid his shades into his pocket.

"Yeah, let's do this." Mac sighed. His aching shoulder reminded him why he never liked crutches as he made his way to the ornate glass door. Jack walked close and a little behind him. Mac was glad of his partner's presence. Something about this whole house made his stomach churn. Mac kept his eyes on the floor as he hop-skipped after a butler or doorman or whatever. Sweat ran in rivulets down his back and legs. He wasn't sure if it was from exertion or the effort not to puke.

"Thank you, Edward. Please come and sit, Lazlo, is in the massage room with Ella. She is wonderful; perhaps she could help your leg heal? Tea?" The room was a vast echoing marble chamber with columns of marble, palm trees and a small fountain and glass, a lot of glass. Mac followed Jack's upward gaze and swallowed. A chandelier hung above them made of cut crystal that shined like diamonds. From underneath it looked like row upon row of knives pointed down at them ready to fall. It was unnerving.

The furniture was pretty, floral and gold, but uncomfortable. Mac sat gingerly with Jack's help worrying the entire time about whether it would hold his weight or not. It forced an uneasy posture. Mac shot Jack a glance. This whole room was designed to intimidate and impress. Judging by Jack's crossed arms and shoulder width stance, it irritated the Delta. Mac smiled. Jack Dalton wouldn't be intimidated by any room other than Elvis's bedroom, maybe. Mac shook the image away.

"No, thank you." Cage answered for all of them. She sat her legs drawn in ankles crossed on the end of the couch farthest from the woman. Mac raised an eyebrow. The two women might as well be cats growling with their fur standing straight up, tails puffed to double their size.

"I'm Esme Grant." The woman was tall, easily an inch or two taller than Mac and had black hair cut like a flapper from the 20s. It was too glossy and too black, a wig no doubt. Her eyes were large and her high cheekbones accented by makeup to look angular. Her jaw jutted out with an aristocratic disdain Mac wasn't sure was real or fake. She had the body of a model out of a magazine-too skinny for most men to desire, not thin enough for women who thought skeletal was sexy to men.

What caught Mac's attention was the faint unevenness on the left side of her cheek and neck. Plastic surgery, probably to hide a scar. Mac frowned his brain not liking the sums it was adding. A door beside the fountain opened. A woman, girl really left and strode behind the spray to a sprawling staircase and dashed up the stairs. Mac glanced at Jack who nodded. His partner had seen the stiffness and hands holding ripped clothes together as the woman almost fled the room. Mac felt the bottom of his gut drop as he looked at the closed door.

His heart moved from a trot to a gallop and his breaths shortened to painful puffs. Mac jumped and looked up startled. Jack stood beside him. He hadn't seen or heard the older man move. Jack watched the door with the narrowed eyes of a hunting puma. Mac let out a deep breath comforted by his partner's presence. The door opened, and a man who could have been a model stepped out. Mac felt his breath hitch but wasn't sure why.

"Come into the examining room?" The man said holding the door open. Jack bent and helped Mac stand.

"I'm right here," Jack whispered in his ear. Mac nodded and gulped. He could see a cushioned table through the open entry. The doorway seemed to grow a million miles tall and a couple hundred wide. Mac felt dizzy. He flinched as Jack put a hand on his shoulder. Mac shot him a mangled smile of gratitude. A large circular light hung over the table. The shelves covering the walls sported towels, lotions and necessary medical supplies. Mac's mouth was desert dry as he climbed onto the table. He closed his eyes. Everything seemed to whirl around him.

"You can wait outside." Grant said as he leaned over Mac's leg. Mac reached out and dug into Jack's arm with a desperate vice grip. Jack patted his hand.

"All due respect, doc, I ain't going anywhere." Mac sucked in a quick breath. His entire body shook as Grant hiked up Mac's pant leg. Mac's leg jumped as he felt the doctor's hot breath on it as he leaned closer to examine the rash. Mac pulled Jack closer his fingers digging into the meat of Jack's arm. Jack took Mac's hand in his and put his other hand on Mac's shoulder. Mac opened his eyes and looked into the worried gaze of his partner. Mac grimaced as Grant poked and prodded his flesh none too gently.

It took forever. Mac was painfully aware of every movement, every look of Dr. Grant but couldn't follow a word he said. He saw a blurry face bend over and mutter Russian in his ear. As soon as Mac's brace was back on, he shoved his way to the side of the table and hopped off not caring if he had crutches or not. He dimly felt Jack walk beside him and yell something to cage as Mac hobble-sprinted out the front door. He took a few steps toward the car then turned, curled over and puked.

Mac heaved until he felt hollow. He heard voices over his head but didn't care. All Mac heard is Russian, _Domashneye zhivotnoye moyego brata._ Tears ran down his face, and he couldn't breathe. Everything became a kaleidoscope of black and greys. He felt familiar hands haul him to his feet and walk him to the Shelby then they were driving. Mac closed his eyes giving into the shaking fear. He had no idea how long it was before the car stopped and Jack leaned over him.

"Mac? Kiddo?" Mac forced his eyes open and reached out clutching Jack's shirt.

"It was him." Mac gasped.

"What?" Jack asked. Cage leaned beside Jack her vulpine features hardening.

"The face...the Russian...it was him." Mac stuttered out the Russian. Cage blanched.

"It translates to...my brother's pet." She said softly. Mac began to heave again. Jack shot Cage a look. She nodded and climbed out of the car. Jack climbed into the back seat and pulled Mac against his chest. Mac's body felt cold, bloodless as it tried to shake itself apart. Jack was warm, safe. Mac curled in close silently crying as Jack rubbed his back and murmured wordless soothing things.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm sorry, Jack," Cage said as Jack raised the Shelby's roof. The misty morning had turned into a rainy midmorning. Jack looked at the woman surprised.

"Good," He said. He glanced back at Mac who slept in the back seat. Jack smiled then looked at Cage, "For what?"

"You were right. If we'd tried to force Mac's memories to the service…" Cage raised her hands. Jack nodded and itched the side of his head.

"Yeah, I don't think he has a problem remembering these memories. I think he can't forget or let anyone in enough to help him." Cage looked at him surprised.

"He's never told you?" Jack huffed as he changed lanes.

"No, but I can guess."

"What happened?"

"We were assigned to the Farah province to close off a trade route between ISIS and Russians."

"Russians?"

"Yeah, a guy named Yakov Kilov had a base of operations in the mountains."

"Grant's brother?" Jack again glanced at Mac, but the pale blond slept soundly with traces of red around his nose and eyes from crying.

"I have no idea how we missed that." Jack shared a haunted look with Cage.

"They captured Mac for three days…" Jack's throat strangled shut. He grimaced and looked away. His voice creaked as he continued, "Mac...he was in terrible shape, and I'm not just talking about physically. The bastard had drugged him, and Mac couldn't stand anyone to touch him for a long time after that."

"You think they-"

"Yeah." The car was silent except for the patter of rain hitting the canvas roof. Cage glanced at Mac at a loss for anything to say.

The Robin's Nest Camp Ground was hardly more than a sandy fenced-in parking lot. The fence was rusted and hung broken every ten feet with weeds overgrown enough to have bark. Jack removed his shades parking outside of the wall behind brush of plants big enough to hide the Shelby. Across the broken fence they could see the chained opening to the campground. To the left of the entrance, a long RV sat parked beside a small cottage. The RV was an older model and showed its miles in cracked paint and dents. The cabin, however, was well kept, neatly painted and sat on a micro green lawn. Jack and Cage exchanged glances.

"Not exactly how I pictured slavers living." Jack said. Cage nodded. She glanced back at Mac who had only moaned occasionally in his sleep.

"What about Mac?" Jack frowned. He thought the kid should be home or at Phoenix medical, but he had no illusions that Mac would escape either the second he awoke. Jack sighed choosing the least worse choice.

"I guess, leave him here? Lock the doors?" Cage shrugged. Mac groaned and shifted mumbling something they couldn't make out.

"Maybe wake him up?"

"If we wake him up, he'll demand to come in with us, and we have no idea what we're walking into," Jack said pulling his Baretta. Cage tugged out her Sig Sauer and nodded. They ducked under a hole in the metal barrier then sprinted to the side of the RV. Jack slid to the far side and glanced at Cage. Cage nodded. Jack tried the handle and found it open. They stared at each other nervously. Jack shrugged and silently opened the door. It snapped free, the rain making the rubber hinges looser than he'd anticipated. Cage didn't wait she hopped over the three small steps then launched herself inside. Jack was half a step behind.

They froze and shared sour looks. The mobile home was wood paneled and had chains built into the walls and floors. There was no furniture, no amenities, and windows covered with black curtains. Jack reached over and pulled the corner of a blackout curtain that hung behind the driver's seat.

"They transport the girls in this." Jack gritted.

"Chained up and left completely in the dark for hours." They could see a drain in the center of the floor. Both knew that was for human waste. The girls were probably hosed off periodically. Jack frowned.

"This isn't the staging though. I mean the parties where the buyers can see their merchandise." Jack thought his jaw was going to break, "I want to kill these people so bad!"

"Stand in line." Cage said with the same ferocity.

"Well, shall we see what the Oswalds are up to?"

"You mean the Dymtrenkos?"

"Whatever."

They crept around the RV. Jack paused at the corner and peered around. He listened. Jack could hear symphony music playing faintly. He glanced back at Cage.

"The Nutcracker, Tchaikovsky." Cage automatically. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Not that, THAT!" Jack pointed with the barrel of his Baretta. Cage's eyes narrowed. A black car slowly drove by.

"Either they are very lost or-"

"They're casing out the joint. Maybe the Grants are cleaning house." Cage nodded. Jack led the way to the side of the house and peeped through the open slit between curtains, "What the hell?" He stepped back so Cage could see. An older couple danced to the classical music in the middle of a small but perfectly average living room.

"I think that Nutcracker missed a pair of nuts," Jack mumbled leading around to the back of the small building. The back door was white wood and had artificial fruit trees and birds carved into it. The top and bottom halves opened separately.

"High or low?" Cage asked. Jack shot her a nasty grin. Cage rolled her eyes, "Low it is." Cage crouched beside the door and silently turned the knob. The door shrieked as she yanked it open. Jack dove in ending with a tight roll. He saw a glance of Granny pulling a Kalashnikov AK-12 from a knick-knack shelf. She tossed aside a doily and fired tight controlled bursts. Jack shoved a couch away from the wall and ducked behind it. Stuffing and cloth flew in all directions. Jack spit out nylon fibers and shook his head. He heard Cage's Sig bark backing the old lady across the room. She ducked behind an IKEA armoire which shook with bullet hits from Cage.

Jack counted until Cage only had three more rounds before he popped up shooting. Cage ducked back reloading. Jack grinned as the armoire doors flopped off taking away half of the old woman's cover. The glasses, plates and linens on the shelves exploded. Jack could see his bullets punch through. Mrs. Oswald cried out in pain and fell to one knee. She screamed something in Russian; Jack didn't need a translation the glare she gave him was universal.

Jack swore as a stream of bullets came from above him he flattened on the floor watching as holes punched in the plaster followed him.

"Cage!" He growled.

"I got him." Jack nodded. He squinted and ducked his hand holding the Baretta under the couch. There were only five or so inches of clearance, so Jack had to fire it at an awkward angle cutting down his accuracy. He snapped out three quick rounds then cussed as the recoil drove his hand against sharp springs.

Cage lept into the center of the living room and rolled landing on her back Sig facing up a narrow flight of stairs and the overhang Henry Oswald crept along. Before he could readjust his aim, she drilled him twice in the face. She pivoted but relaxed. Mrs. Oswald was just as dead. Cage stood up and looked over at Jack. She felt a spike of worry at the blood pouring down his right hand, but he barely noticed. He nodded at Granny while he jumped up the stairs to check on Mr. Oswald.

"Dead up here. Nice shot right in the upper sinus."

"Yeah, not so good here, Mrs. Oswald is still alive."

"I meant to keep her alive for questioning," Jack grumbled coming back down to the living room. Cage chuckled and yanked a large doily off the shredded Armoire to put on the woman's bleeding thigh. Jack shoved a crystal lamp aside and pulled off a small red lace tablecloth. Cage ripped it in half and tied one around the older woman's scrawny calf and upper right arm.

"That was to tie her up with," Jack growled.

"What good is tying her up if she dies from losing blood?" Cage hissed back. Jack rolled his eyes and crossed to the small kitchenette beside the stairs. He spun looking for something to use as a binding. Jack smiled as he found a shelf of hand towels. He wrapped one around his hand and pulled out two more. He turned to return to the back of the house when he saw a streak of movement out the corner of his eye.

"SHIT! Cage, down!" Jack grunted as he hit the cold tile. Above him, the world exploded into a constant spray of debris and shattered glass as the black car let loose with more bullets than the worst gangs use in a year. Inching forward, he peeped into the living room. Broken plaster, glass, and sprays of splinters filled the air. Jack tossed the towels to Cage who leaned forward and grabbed them. She was laying beside the old woman's body using her as a shield.

"Toss me that AK-12, will ya? I've been wanting to shoot one since they came out. It's supposed to be pretty good." Cage slid it across the carpet to him with a smile.

"Have fun." She said. Jack grinned.

"You watch the back door; these guys aren't just gonna assume we're dead they're gonna want to kick the bodies." Cage nodded as she scooted over to retrieve the other AK-12. Jack found a protected niche between the refrigerator and living room wall. He rose to a squat and tucked himself back to wait. He looked at Cage who was pushing an entertainment center along the wall so she could duck behind it while having a good angle for the back door. Jack sighed rubbing bits of fluff out of his short hair.

"So how do you like LA?" Jack asked conversationally. Cage looked up her face red and sweaty from exertion. She was using her legs to move the heavy piece of furniture.

"Seriously? You want to talk about this now?" Jack shrugged putting a finger to his ear. The constant barrage was starting to hurt his ears. Cage sighed rising to a crouch behind the wood shelving unit, "It's not bad. I like Disneyland and the Pier, but traffic is a bitch. Where do all the cars come from? It's hours just to go ten feet." Jack laughed.

"Yeah, not sure why they planned it all so badly. You been out to Venice beach?"

"Of course, I love to watch crazy people," Cage shot him a grin, "Other than the ones I work with of course."

"Oh ha, ha. I always wanted to go to an Aussie beach."

"Why? Because they're topless?" Jack opened his mouth to reply when the shooting stopped. Jack's ears rung.

"Hold that thought." He called as he turned aiming at the swiss-cheesed front door.

"I'd rather not." Cage responded readying herself. The quiet after the storm of bullets was eerie and tense. Jack narrowed his eyes at the door. He tried to think about the options open to their attackers. The main problem was that he had no idea how many attackers there were or what their firepower was. Jack assumed that these were the same goons that beat the crap out of Mac but considering them untrained because they used pipes would be a rookie mistake. Jack was no rookie so he braced for anything, or so he thought. He wasn't ready for the grenade that sailed through the window.

"Shit," Jack said rolling behind the living room wall covering his ears. The world became blinding then painfully blared loud. A flash-bang. Jack shook his head and whirled. A foot flew at his head. Jack dropped flat. The boot crashed into the wall leaving a plaster imprint. The man in all black brought his knee up to stomp Jack again. Jack lifted the AK and shot him point blank into his abdomen. A spray of blood exploded out the man's back, "Hmm, not bad." Jack murmured as he stood and shot two more moving figures in black filling the kitchen. A lead pipe slammed into the rifle. Jack swore as his already bleeding hand received the brunt of the blow.

He let the AK drop and bent under a swing of the lead pipe. As soon as it passed over his head, Jack straightened wrapped his arm around his attackers extended arm and twisted. The man screamed as his elbow snapped like a wishbone. Jack kneed the man in the groin then released the man's broken arm. Jack bent his elbow and brought it down between the atlas and axis cervical vertebrae snapping the man's neck instantly.

Jack bent and snapped up the lead pipe spinning in time to see three attackers circling him. Jack smiled starting to enjoy himself. He'd been wanting these bastards since Farah. Jack bent back over the counter behind him and kicked his legs into the chest of the closest. The goon stumbled back into his two comrades. Jack followed him shoving him harder. The man flopped onto the tile hard. Jack didn't pause. He slammed his boot down in the man's solar plexus hard enough to shatter the sternum.

The guy in the back shoved the second guy in line forward. Jack stepped to the side and swung the pipe like a bat. The man managed to stop the blow less than an inch from his nose. Jack smiled. Having the guy's arms in so close limited his movement. Jack pivoted and struck with a solid back mule kick. The man stumbled back another step. Jack landed setting his rear foot then slashed again with the pipe. The man was still off balance and held his lead bludgeon too close, Jack's blow caused the guy to smack his face. The goon groaned and collapsed. Jack kicked him in the chin to make sure.

The third guy surprised Jack. Jack braced for a lead pipe attack. The man dropped his pipe, drew a pistol and shot Jack in one smooth motion. Jack fell back against the counter with a groan losing his pipe. The man slammed his gun into the side of Jack's head. Jack sagged. Black bubbles fizzed across his vision. He shook his head wincing and found himself landing face first in a cupboard full of can goods.

"Huh," Jack mumbled. He rolled onto his back and threw a can of Tushonka at the man's head. The man stepped back startled. Jack threw a box of potatoes. The man ducked. Jack took the time to kick the man's ankle. The man stumbled back catching himself on the stove. Jack rose to his knees a can of tuna in his hand. Jack threw it with the force of his patented Dalton spitball. It knocked the goon in the bridge of his nose. The man dropped his pistol. Jack stepped in close and yanked off the guy's black mask. Jack had an image of pale Eastern European features before he grabbed two hands of the guys greasy black hair and slammed him into the heating element of the stove. Jack winced in pain but didn't stop until the man fell to the tile unmoving. Jack looked up. The kitchen was empty of adversaries. He breathed out in relief. Things were quiet in the living room, too quiet.

"Cage? You alive?" He managed as he staggered forward. He tripped over his unconscious enemy and landed on his wound. Jack wasn't sure where it was, but it flared into agony. He cried out and tried to push to his feet, but someone decided to hijack his body then wrap it in a black night.

Cage had ducked low when she heard Jack yell. She rolled into a ball and covered her ears. Paintings and hangings on the wall shook and flew off the wall as the house rattled with the explosion. Luckily she was far enough away the effects of the flashbang didn't affect her. A body came hurtling through the glass over the couch. Cage pivoted and took him out with a nice triple round burst to his head. She spun to shoot the first two black-clad attackers trying to creep under the bottom half of the door. She heard a crash behind her and turned to have the butt of a rifle slammed into her face. Cage went with the blow and tried to relax her muscles to limit the damage as much as she could, but there was no real right way of taking a buttstroke to the face. She landed on her side, her gun trapped painfully under her body. She tasted blood and could feel her right eye already swelling.

The man above her raised a lead pipe over his head. Moving cobra-fast Cage grabbed the knife she wore in her boot and rolled to the side cutting the man's femoral artery as she did. Hands reached around her pulling her into a bear hug. As soon as she felt the touch of the grab, she dropped her knife and braced her forearms against her hips preventing the goon from locking in a solid grip. Cage crouched stepping backward between the man's feet and heaved forward. The man rolled over her back to the floor. She stomped his throat with her boot and scooped up her knife. Breathing hard she spun, but there were no more opponents. Cage's chest pumped in air. She grabbed the AK-12 and ran to check on Jack.

"Jack!" She cried falling to her knees beside the man. His black shirt was dripping with blood. Cage lifted it and sighed in relief. A jagged wound under his arm carved a groove along his side. Blood ran from it freely, but Cage didn't think it'd be fatal if she could get the bleeding stopped. Cage checked their enemy. Their old female prisoner had her throat slit. Probably the reason for the attack, Cage realized.

The only survivor was Jack's last opponent. Cage restrained him with leather belts from the others. She grabbed a hand towel and shoved it against Jack's side bracing his arm against it. The Shelby had a full military med kit. Cage looked out the front. As she expected, the black car was long gone. She sprinted out to the Shelby, or where they had left the Shelby.

"Son of a bitch!" Cage swore. She doubled and tripled checked, but she was in the right spot. The Shelby was gone and Mac with it.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack moaned, blinked his eyes then jerked to sitting. Sound and motion made everything swirl.

"Easy, Jack. You're ok." Jack followed the voice to Doc Carl who sat on the edge of a cot. Jack looked down and saw the doc was in the middle of sewing up a long bloody crease along his ribs. Jack laid back as the pain burst through his confusion.

"What the hell?" He grumbled. He blinked and rubbed his head surprised to feel cold and sweaty. Doc Carl offered a kind smile, "Oh, right." Jack rolled onto his side and held his hand up allowing Doc Carl to return to his sewing. He realized they were both in a Phoenix ambulance. Everything rushed back to him. He went to sit up again. Doc Carl stopped him with a firm gloved hand on the older man's shoulder.

"I'm almost done." He said. Jack huffed and leaned back.

"Cage? Mac?" Jack narrowed his eyes as he saw Doc Carl glance at him then away. Jack felt his stomach drop. He grabbed the younger man's shoulder, "Doc?"

"Cage is fine." Jack pushed up to an elbow.

"What about Mac?" Doc Carl sighed as he put in the last complicated knot. He sat back snapping off his gloves.

"We don't know. After the fight Cage went out to get the med kit from the Shelby both were gone."

"Gone? Gone how?" Jack pushed to sitting and paused as everything see-sawed around him. Doc Carl shrugged and wrapped a bandage around Jack's chest. Jack took a steadying breath. He hesitated and studied the curly-haired doctor.

"Why did you come out here?"

"Matty didn't want to waste time, and we all knew you wouldn't stay at Phoenix longer than it took you to find your clothes." Jack grinned and patted the doctor on the shoulder.

"You're a good man, buddy." Doc Carl shook his head and handed Jack a pile of new clothes.

"Mac's house isn't far from here. We're going to set up a base there. Bozer gave me these." Jack nodded. Doc Carl leaned over and handed Jack a packet of baby wipes. Jack wiped the extra blood off his chest and arm. He glanced at the young doctor. The man seemed more withdrawn than usual.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked as he wriggled into a new set of black jeans. Doc Carl shook his head.

"I'm worried about Mac...and Sally." Jack shoved a foot into his boot and paused.

"She's still freaked out?"

"Yeah, she'd never seen Mac like that and when he hit her...I've seen that woman weather some of the worst storms you guys go through, but for some reason, this bothered her more than all of that. She's even talking about leaving Phoenix."

"What?" Jack stomped the boot down hard and stared at Doc Carl in shock. Jack shook his head, "Don't let her. We'll get this all straightened out when we get the kid back, ok?" Doc Carl grinned.

"Thanks, Jack." Jack nodded and jumped down from the ambulance he paused holding onto the back bumper until the swimming world stopped sloshing around him.

"Jack! You're awake!" Riley called as she jogged to his side. Jack smiled as she gently hugged him. Jack stumbled a step. Riley pulled back and eyed the man, "You're almost as pale as Mac. Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine, do we know anything?" Jack strode toward the cottage. Cop and Phonix techs swarmed in and out of the yellow bordered crime scene. Jack ducked under the tape and stepped into the small building.

"Cage and Matty are in the back room grilling the prisoner."

"The Oswalds?"

"No, they were killed by the bad guys. You left one alive."

"Must be slipping," Jack growled. Riley smiled. Jack paused taking in the ruins of the house. The floor was still slick with drying blood and debris. The bodies were gone. Jack wrinkled his nose. No matter how many times he'd been around death, there's something about the smell that never quite set right with him.

Jack crossed to the living room and crept over more destruction. Jack tripped over a cord from a lamp. Riley steadied him and looked at him worried. Jack landed hard on his left foot. He froze.

"Did you hear that?" He asked. Riley frowned.

"Hear what?" Jack stomped again. They both heard a hollow thud. Jack stepped back and kicked broken furniture and glass off the carpet as he studied the carpet. Riley crouched and looked closer to the misplaced Armoire.

"I don't see anything." She said. Jack looked up at one of the lab techs.

"Dude, you got a knife?" Jack knelt and cut through the carpet. They found the outline of a trapdoor covered in drywall and plaster.

"They don't expect to use that again," Riley noted. Jack nodded and frowned. He leaned forward and put his ear against the floor. His eyes widened.

"There's somebody down there!" Four cops joined him and Riley desperately cutting away at the plaster and wood. They could all hear a feeble knocking. Finally, they poked a hole into a dark void. The stink of human sweat, urine and feces slapped into them.

"Anybody there?"

"Help, no air." The voice was barely a whisper. They opened the hole enough for Jack to hop down. It was a ten-foot drop.

"Jack?" Riley called. Jack looked up and caught a flashlight. He turned it on and took in where he found himself. It was a dirt hole the size of half the cottage. Huddled together was a group of girls, the oldest couldn't have been more than fifteen. They were thin, some had blood and bruising on their naked bodies. Their eyes would haunt Jack for a long time. They had the numbness of someone who'd been through enough pain and misery they were numb and died inside. Jack took a step toward them. As one organism they moved in closer together. Jack stopped and crouched.

"Easy, ladies. My name's Jack. We're gonna get you out of here, ok?"

"New owner?" A small girl kneeling at the front of the pack said. Jack's stomach flip-flopped. The girl had an American accent. He studied them under the flashlight's faint yellow glow. It was hard to see under the grime, but they were from different nationalities.

"No, no one's going to own you anymore." The speaker frowned.

"How are we going to earn our living?" The girl asked.

"What's your name, Sweetheart?"

"Sylvania."

"Sylvania? Like the TV?" The girl shrugged, "My first owner said he bought me for the price of a 50 inch TV and that's what he called me. Jack closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

"Ok, Sylvania. You and your friends wait here, we'll get you outta here, ok?" She stared at him as if he was talking Urdu. Jack stood up and stepped back to the opening of the hole.

"Ri, we got about twenty girls down here that need some ladies to help them out. They need to be cleaned up and checked over." Riley nodded and turned to run. Jack returned to the girls.

"Ok, help's on the way. Where are you girls from? I'm from Texas; anybody know where that is?" A tiny girl hiding behind Sylvania raised her hand. Jack smiled and nodded.

"I think my Mommy lives in Amarillo." The girl began to cry, "They stole me a long time ago."

"Not that long ago," the oldest girl growled with anger. She had an accent that sounded Middle Eastern, possibly Saudi Arabian? She turned to Jack, "That's Macy she's been with us six months." Jack nodded. He had a million questions he wanted to ask but just wanted to get them to trust him. Talking was the first step. Jack looked at Macy and had to blink away tears. The girl couldn't have been more than 6 or 7.

"What's your name?"

"I am Jianna; my father sold me more than seven years ago. I've had seven owners, this one…" Jianna turned away, and Jack thought she was crying.

"Was it the old couple upstairs?"

"No, they're the mules." Jack was surprised to hear a boy's voice. He aimed the flashlight. The boy could have been anything from 7 to 14, he had longish hair and sounded Brazilian, "They transport...then there's auction." At this Jack saw all the kids flinch. Jack bit his lip forcing himself to sound casual.

"Do you know where this auction was going to be?"

"They don't talk to us." Jianna said, "They only train and correct us." Her voice was a cold blade dripping with bloody bitterness. Jack nodded. He heard more boots over their heads.

"When was the last time you guys ate?" Their silence was painful. Jack sighed and stood up. They all pulled back. He grimaced at the flame of pain across his side.

"They left us here to die." Another girl said in a hoarse whisper. Jack shook his head. If he hadn't accidentally tripped these kids would be dead and buried, and no one would know what happened to them. Macy's folks had to be going nuts looking for her. Jack rubbed his eyes. Some of the others...Jack hated the world sometimes. Jack turned at the sound of a rope hitting the ground behind him. He laid the flashlight on the ground and held the line as two women in Sherrif's uniformed rappeled down. They both clicked on portable lanterns. In the brighter white light, Jack could see he'd probably guessed their ages a bit high.

"God damned sons of bitches," Jack muttered. He could feel his hands form fists and his body shake.

"First time? I'm Zoe Lopez; this is my partner DeeDee Lancaster we're from the LA Regional Human Trafficking Special Task Force." The taller of the two women had the dark hair and skin of a Latina. Her handshake was firm and calloused.

"Jack Dalton, First time this up close," Jack muttered. The woman smiled sadly. Her dark eyes gleamed like obsidian. DeeDee, a smaller woman with platinum collar length hair, turned turquoise colored eyes at the small group. Jack noticed an X shaped scar on her left cheek. Her smiled carried the weight of too many miles.

"That's a gift from the first guy who bought me when I was trafficked as a teenager." Jack gaped at her unsure what to say. She waved a dismissive hand. "Old news, what do you know about these kids?" She asked. Jack quickly got both officers caught up to date. As they talked four women in street clothes crept over to the kids and spoke softly to them. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"These are volunteers from CAST an organization that helps trafficking victims. Others will be coming out to help too." Zoe said.

"We have a doctor here and can get most anything you need." Jack offered.

"We'll take the doctor; we'll need help with forensic baths and clothes."

"You got it. I'll get it set up." Jack turned away fast enough he felt like a coward. He paused and looked back. DeeDee patted him on the shoulder.

"We got it, Jack." After we get things sorted, we'll question them."

"I want in on that. My partner's missing." The two women exchanged a glance and shot Jack hard looks.

"We'll do everything we can." Jack nodded and shimmied up the rope. Riley helped him over to the side. Jack knelt a long minute catching his breath. He must have looked as horrible as he felt because Riley reached over and hugged him.

"We're gonna get Mac back and nail these fuckers," Riley growled in his ear. Jack grinned.

"That's my girl." Jack murmured. Riley returned a small angry smile, "Where's Matty and Cage?"

"Matty's making phone calls. She says there's a Phoenix safe house the kids can stay in while everything gets sorted." Jack nodded and breathed out in relief.

"Riley, I want you and Bozer to get what you can from these guys. Stay and help the ladies however you can."

"Bozer's at home." Jack nodded at the question under the statement.

"We need him more here. If Mac gets home, he'll be able to call." Riley nodded. Jack held his side grimacing as he stood up, "I'm going to watch Cage pull this guy's head apart."

"Too bad she can't actually do it," Riley remarked. Jack shrugged.

"You never know, I don't think anybody here would stick up for the scumbag." Riley nodded and climbed down into the hole. Jack rubbed his face and climbed the stairs to the second floor's main room. It looked like a TV nook or something. Jack gritted his teeth looking at the 50 inch Sylvania. He forced himself to breathe and his hands to unclench. The prisoner's face wasn't bandaged, and blood still ran freely from his curly black hair to his short black goatee. Cage looked up and smiled. Jack grinned and eyed the prisoner with full Delta rage. The man sneered, but couldn't hide the fear in his eyes. Cage sat on a floral gliding rocker facing the man in a low straight-backed chair.

Jack walked close behind the man smiling as the man's shoulders flinched. Jack backed away and sprawled on the couch staring at the prisoner like a jungle cat eyeing a wounded zebra. He pulled out his knife and began to pick his fingernails with it. The black-haired man managed to ignore Jack, but his Adam's apple bobbed like a basketball.

"Now," Cage asked sweetly, "shall we continue, Mr. Borshinov? Who do you work for?" The man narrowed his eyes and stared at her. Cage nodded, "I understand, you're scared of them. They could hurt you, maybe kill you? My friend over there, well if I were you I would be more afraid of him. You are standing between him and someone he cares a lot about, and I've heard over the years he's gotten talented of killing people very slowly and painfully." Cage sent a raised eye Jack's way. Jack nodded.

"One time in the Amazon I skinned a guy, it was pretty cool you could see all his innards like his beating heart, right? He did die...I think 18 hours later? By then there wasn't much else to carve off." Cage gave Jack a double take. She'd assumed Jack would play a part, but she couldn't find any sign the man was lying. She swallowed and looked at Borshinov showing her genuine concern. The man laughed with bravado.

"I know you can not do that to prisoners in this country you have rights and other ridiculous ideas." The man's Russian accent was more pronounced showing exactly how upset he was. Before Cage could open her mouth, Jack flipped his knife through the air. The man screamed when it thudded into his thigh with only the handle showing. Cage gaped at Jack who stood up and knelt beside the guy. Slowly he removed the knife twisting it as he pulled it out. The man screamed, his face turning ash white. Jack smiled the frigid grin of a striking cobra.

"You're right; we do have...that ridiculous stuff." Jack leaned closer until he was an inch from the man's ear, "Normally, but not for people we really, really like and right now, you're one of my favorite people in the world." The man shied back unable to hide his fear. Jack grinned as the man peed his pants. Jack stood, winked at Cage then grabbed a doily off the coffee table to clean his knife as he laid back down on the couch.

"So?" Cage asked. Borshinov stuttered as he tried to get all his information out fast. Matty joined the two Phoenix agents after they handed the man off to cops. Matty raised an eyebrow at Cage who shrugged, "It wasn't me." She said. Matty closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Why am I not surprised? It's fine, Jack. No one is going to cry any tears especially after seeing those kids they left here to die." Jack nodded gratefully, "What did we find out?"

"After Evalina escaped, the word came down the chain to close up shop," Jack said.

"Before that, there was suppose to be an auction at a rich couple's sprawling mansion tonight to show the merchandise." Cage said unable to keep her disgust out of her tone.

"The Grants?"

"Seems likely, I guess they were frequent customers. Our Dr. Sexy has some sick predilections." Jack growled, "I can't believe we missed his Kilov connection."

"That's on me, Jack," Matty said looking away.

"Matty, you said there isn't any record of a connection between Grant and Russia and nothing anywhere about a brother." Cage argued. Matty's eyes snapped to the younger woman's face sparkling with guilt and anger.

"It's my job to know." Jack slipped his knife back into its sheath in his boot.

"Guilt won't get us Mac back." Jack glanced at his watch, "Three hours to sundown. I think we should hit them with full TAC." Matty nodded.

"You have a go, Jack." Matty gave him a steady look, "You get blondie back whatever it takes." Jack nodded.

"That's the plan. I kinda hope they put up a fight."


	7. Chapter 7

The sky was pink with streaks of red and airplane contrails that looked like cuts caused by a giant's long fingernails. Jack shrugged into his vest and stowed his Baretta in the front kangaroo holster. He put in the ear of the TAC radio and had the three TAC teams count off. Cage checked the slide on her Sig Sauer and tucked it in a thigh side holster. She pulled out a ponytail holder and pulled her unruly mane back in one smooth motion. She glanced at Jack with a small smile.

"Ready?" She asked. Jack rubbed his face and nodded. Cage studied the older man. Jack still favored his wounded side but gave no other sign of injury. She looked up as Riley and Bozer entered the staging area.

"Anything?"

"The kids didn't have anything to add that we didn't know. Zoe and DeeDee are getting info for going farther up the food chain." Bozer said. Riley pulled out her ubiquitous laptop and what Jack always called a game controller. She concentrated biting her lip. They could hear the whir of the small drone's engine as it sailed over their heads down the hill they were on to the sprawling mess of a mansion.

Jack glanced down at Matty as the diminutive woman entered the tent. She nodded at them but didn't interrupt. She knew unless there was a good reason, Jack was in charge of TAC on all missions.

"Ok, there are three outbuildings, one is a garage, not sure what the other two are," Riley said.

"Any sign of the Shelby?" Jack couldn't help asking even though he could see just as well as she could.

"Not unless it's inside," Riley said giving him a hopeful smile. Jack nodded. If would be nice to have some firm confirmation Mac was in the mansion, but it wasn't crucial to the mission. Riley stood up, "Ok, I'm going to thermal." Jack leaned closer and frowned. He could see a group of people sitting on the floor inside the front hall. They huddled too close together to make out their number. Around them moved groups of three, numbering close to 60 in all in tight guard formations. Two people sat on the furniture. Jack scowled. He had a pretty good idea who they were.

"Ok, all teams understand the plan?" As they sounded off, Nellie leader of Beta Team walked up to him. Jack smiled. He had a soft spot for the woman and continuously got teased about it. Nellie grinned and hugged Jack. The woman saved his and Mac's life in a big way when they had gotten shot down in the backwoods of the Appalachians; she deserved a bit of spoiling.

"You ready to play Santa Clause, kiddo?" Nellie smiled hefting her M-5. Despite her sunny girl next door smile, Jack knew precisely how badass the kid was.

"Just point us at the assholes, Jack." Jack grinned and raised an eyebrow. Nellie shrugged but didn't apologize, "We're ready to go on your mark, Alpha One." She said. Jack nodded.

"Mission is a go, careful getting into position boys and girls and anyone who gets themselves dead gets to clean toilets for the rest of eternity, got it?" He heard soft laughter and acknowledgment down the line. He watched the drone's screen and smiled. If he couldn't see the Phoenix fighters moving in close to the house, no one inside would either. Jack glanced at the sky. In fifteen minutes it would be full dark, he glanced at Nellie who nodded and Cage who smiled as she held the M-5 barrel up buttstock balanced on her hip.

"Doc Carl is set up and says he's ready for anything," Bozer said. Jack nodded. Bozer's worried face mirrored his.

"Let's not use them, got it?" Matty said. Jack opened his mouth to reply when his phone buzzed. Jack jumped and glanced at the others with a frown. He saw who it was and paled. He put it on the table and pushed speaker.

"What do you want, Lazlo?" Jack felt a tiny victory when the man made a sound halfway between a surprised intake and a growl.

"I imagine you and your little soldiers think you're going to invade?" Jack gritted his teeth. He glanced at Nellie who was already on the radio to the other teams.

"You didn't answer my question." Jack hissed.

"I thought that should be obvious even for a dimwit like you. I want MacGyver." Jack opened his eyes wide and looked at Matty surprised. Didn't Grant have Mac? Was this a lie, a ploy? Jack swallowed and rubbed his eyes forcing his voice to remain steady.

"He doesn't want you." It was lame, but the best Jack could manage.

"Hasn't he learned from my brother, what he wants is irrelevant?" Jack leaned forward. Riley put an arm on his arm. Jack let out a long silent breath and nodded.

"So you're just like your brother? A sick rapist? I wonder what he would think of you messing with kids? I know he was an asshole, but even he didn't sink as low as you." Jack's smile held grim triumph as he heard a string of expletives escape from the man. There was a shuffle then Esme Grant took over speaking.

"Look, if you don't give us MacGyver in one hour the bomb my husband put on him will explode. I assure you it has enough bang to take out two city blocks." Jack shared desperate looks with the others.

"You'll blow yourselves up?"

"If it means taking you with us, oh yes."

"We have an hour?"

"Less now. The timer has been going since you came to visit us. I hadn't realized how handsome you were and MacGyver...he's just yummy." Jack felt as if cold grease dripped down his body.

"Sorry sweetheart, I don't do crazy." Jack cut the line and leaned forward.

"They don't have Mac." He said shaking his head, "GODDAMNIT!" Jack yelled grabbing all the papers on the table and sending them flying. He wanted to put his fist through something, or someone. He felt Matty tug on his sleeve and looked down at her.

"Jack, focus. We still have to clean them out." She said. It was Matty the Mother's tone. Jack nodded.

"Then we can get info out of them to save Mac." Cage offered. Jack shot her a quick smile of thanks. She smiled like a hunting coyote. Jack could tell Cage was looking forward to breaking the Grants. Jack narrowed his eyes. Come to think of it; he was looking for it too. Jack hefted his M5. How seldom does he get pure job satisfaction? Jack will do what it takes to get closer to Mac. If it was bloody, he was ok with that.

"Ok, kids, let's do it." He turned to see Nellie's kind eyes.

"Jack, we'll get him back." Jack nodded and squeezed her shoulder.

"Damn right, girl. Let's go crash the crazy."

Jack's plan was simple, as all good intentions were. The Phoenix warriors worked their way close. At dark, they move forward and rig the outbuildings to explode, along with every damn car the man owned. Jack, Cage, and Alpha would drive in the front. Bozer and Beta would ride with them until they reached the front door then split off to secure the hostages. Jack grinned thinking of the final gift Phoenix would leave the Grants courtesy of Nellie. Riley provided overwatch and kept comms up back from their portable HQ. Jack pulled Phoenix's newest toy up, the Oshkosh L-ATV JLTV. He grinned. It shifted smoother and maneuvered easier than the Humvees they'd used over in the sandbox. Jack paused at the top of the small hill overlooking the locked gate and long drive.

"Everybody ready?" He asked one last time. Jack glanced at the others in the JLTV. Bozer nodded and looked like he was going to puke. Cage and Nellie looked like twin huntresses, and the other six soldiers nodded. This was far from the soldier's first rodeo. Jack nodded.

"Mark is given, go, go, go." Jack said, "Good hunting, kids." He heard quick acknowledgments then pulled on his black leather gloves. He rode the wild ride of his adrenaline. He grinned at the others, "Let's roll." Suiting the action to the word, Jack stomped the accelerator. Jack felt a little disappointed. The truck was automatic, so he didn't have gears to work. Not only did this give him less control than he'd typically have, but it took away the visceral bonding of driver and truck-or in this case battering ram. The throaty diesel purr of the V8 slid into a dragon's roar as they slammed into the gate. Jack nodded impressed. The truck rose smoothly over the fallen iron as if it were a cardboard box. Yep, Jack liked the new toy.

Jack let out a Texas yell as he sped toward the house. He paused at the last bend. Nellie and her team slid out of the vehicle and melted into the darkness. Jack waited until his team was settled then grinned.

"Jack, what are we doing?"

"You know how I love dramatic entrances!"

"Jack, you can't-" Cage ducked into crash position gritting her teeth. Jack cackled as he sped up the stairs and plowed into the ornate front doors. Jack twisted the wheel, and the JLTV skidded to a stop Jack's side facing the front hall. Jack hopped out and dashed to the back of the fountain before the guards opened fire.

Jack took in the scene. A group of girls and boys, most 10 to 15 years old, clustered together behind the uncomfortable dainty furniture. The Grants had dropped flat to the carpet, their hands over their heads. Stark against white, the black-suited guards, seemed to creep out of everywhere like a nest of pissed off ants. Jack ducked wincing as the plant he was using for cover sprayed green fronds shot in half. When there was a short pause, Jack popped up and fired controlled bursts at the closest set of goons. Three went down.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Cage and rest of Alpha leap-frogged across the room spacing their firing, so the others fired when one was reloading. Wave after wave of bad guys fell bleeding. Some screamed in pain. Jack sighed. He always felt at home on the battlefield especially when his team was winning.

Jack flattened as flitting figures along the stairways and from the second-floor landing shot down on them. Jack grimaced. Had to go and jinx it didn't he? Cage and her team managed to tip tables and chairs over for cover. The furniture may have cost millions, but it was as cheap as paper. Jack bit his lip. He saw Nellie and Bozer creep into the doorway on the other side of the room. They weren't in a position to provide cover and couldn't advance. Jack glanced up and grinned. He popped to his feet firing as he moved. He landed in a neat roll ending on his back with the M5 pointing almost straight at him. Jack pulled the trigger for an extended burst.

Esme looked up and screamed. Lazlo Grant shoved her aside and rolled under the coffee table as the chain holding the giant crystal chandelier shrieked. Cage saw what Jack was doing and aimed at the ceiling tiles around the chain. Jack saw the chain spark and the whole glass mess tilted. Jack stood and ran full tilt toward the prisoners.

"Jack!" Cage yelled. Jack didn't hesitate. He jumped onto the coffee table, leaped to the fancy couch then dove head first over the back immediately launching into another roll. He came up in front of the prisoners and turned to fire on the enemy on the stairs, giving Nellie time to break out of the doorway. Jack glanced up, and his eyes widened. He skidded to his feet and ran flat out toward the hostages. Jack had almost reached them a bullet clipped his left thigh knocking him off his feet. Jack grunted tumbling to his side.

A stentorian howl came from the ceiling, and the chandelier fell. Esme screamed as hundreds of lead crystals shredded her flesh to a burger. One of the banana trees beside the couch evidently was fake as it flared into flames. The smoke was thick giving the attackers some cover.

"Move, move, move." Jack bellowed. The bad guys took the same advice and advanced at a sprint. Jack heard distant explosions and smiled. Better late than never. Jack pushed himself up to his right knee and reloaded. Hands grabbed him from behind and yanked him back by his throat. Jack moved with the motion and rolled back to his knees. A groan escaped his tight lips. Lazlo Grant whose face hung in tattered ruins looked down at Jack with the same crazed gaze his brother had when Jack killed him. Jack blocked a kick from the man with his M5, but the weapon went flying. Jack swung aside from a knee to his face, spun and kicked the man's legs out from under him.

Jack scrambled to the M5. Before he could reach it, a black-clad figure grabbed him by his vest. Jack slammed his forehead into the man's nose. The man grinned and didn't let go. Shit. Jack put both hands against the man's palms keeping him from locking in a stranglehold. The man pivoted and slammed Jack back first into the ground. Jack cried out his arms flopping to his side. The man mounted his abdomen and rained down punches. Blood and black spots clouded Jack's vision. He couldn't get a deep breath from the man's weight. Jack punched the man twice without any strength. Then the man flopped forward his chest covering Jack's head. Everything went black.

Cage saw Jack's mad dash under the falling light fixture her heart catching in her throat. The man cleared it then fell to the floor a splatter of blood spraying around him. Cage turned to the Phoenix fighters.

"Well, c'mon we don't want Jack to have all the fun do we?" They moved forward. Nellie and her team provided cover firing at the black shadows on the stairs and upper floors. The air hung heavy with smoke and the smell of cordite. Bozer had the prisoners up, and in single file holding hands, he led them out the side door. Alpha team formed up behind them protecting them.

"Let's get out of here!" Cage roared coughing. She heard a thud and turned to see Jack's body slam. Damn. She charged forward and slammed the butt of her rifle into the man's head over and over until he collapsed-on Jack, "Crap! Hold on Jack." She offered, grunting as she pulled with all her strength. The man rolled slowly over. Cage got a stronger grip and yanked again, "C'mon, dammit." She growled. Finally, she was able to pull Jack free. She looked up and grimaced. They were the last in the house other than the fallen bodies. Worse, she was cut off from all sides except one, "Sorry, Jack." Cage snarled as she grabbed the sleeves of his shirt and inch by inch pulled him around the shattered slices of glass. Cage winced seeing the blood trail Jack left. She could only imagine the number of cuts he'd be getting by dragging, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

Cage leaned against the JLTV coughing and trying to breathe. The fire had spread all around them. She opened the back door wondering how the hell to get Jack inside when his eyes drifted halfway open. Cage grinned. 

"Perfect timing, c'mon Jack." Jack stared at her dazed. She shook her head and slapped him. Jack's eyes sparked with anger. He pushed to his feet. Cage yanked at the same time.

"What the-" Jack grumbled dazed.

"Climb in, or I'll tell Matty you destroyed her million dollars new toy," Jack said something, but she couldn't hear anything over the roar of the flames. Cage climbed in, turned the truck on and skidded into a donut facing the front of the house. She stomped her boot on the pedal, and the JLTV streaked through the future and slammed through the front of the mansion. Cage cracked her skull against the armored roof and blinked away automatic tears. It took all the strength in her slight frame to keep the vehicle bouncing across the lawn.

They'd just cleared the debris field and snaked down the driveway when Nellie did her Santa thing. The shoulder rocket launcher belched fire as a stinger flew into the hole the JLTV had made. There was a heartbeat then the entire building exploded into fragments.

"So much for being a historical landmark." Cage said dryly as Nellie and her team climbed back into the truck. Nellie bent over Jack who was out again. Cage turned toward HQ and floored it.

"Looks like twenty got away, I don't know if the Grants made it or not." Riley said with a sigh. She smiled at Matty, "Other than Jack, our side didn't have injury or loss." Matty chuckled.

"Jack can be such a drama queen." She said. There was no hiding the relief in her voice.

"Doc Carl is fixing him up now. CAST and the sheriff's from the task force are bussing the kids to the Phoenix safe house, and Boze should be back any minute." Matty nodded tapping her chin. Now if they just knew where Blondie was. Jack's phone buzzed. Riley and Matty stared at it a long second. The caller ID said it was Mac.

"Blondie? Where are you?" Matty said putting the call on speaker. A heavily accented voice replied.

"MacGyver needs some medical attention. He told me to call you and say sent reinforcements." Riley and Matty stared at each other open-mouthed.

"Ok, first of all, who are you?" Matty began.


	8. Chapter 8

A giant hand lifted Mac then slammed him down hard. Mac startled awake rubbing his head. He blinked confusedly. He heard a loud grinding and his back was shoved painfully hard into the Shelby's door. 

"What the hell, Jack?" Mac squeaked as he managed to stay on the seat. Mac shook his head and took in his surroundings. Two people sat in the front seat. One he recognized. 

"Evalina! What's going on?" Mac shouted over the roar of gravel and dirt pelting the underside of the car. Evalina was pale and her face spotted with healing bruises. She offered him half a smile before turning back to driving. Mac managed to slide to sitting, bending forward at a pain in his side. He winced. Sweat gushed from him, and his leg was so swollen that it pushed sharply against the brace. Mac moaned and turned his attention to the passenger. 

The man had kind blue eyes and short blond-grey hair that hung on either side of his high forehead like commas. His nose was long and bulbous at the end. He offered Mac a smile. The man had a perfect row of teeth. 

"Hello, Mac. I am Pavlo Zakhysnyk. I am the Panimatka of the Refuge of St. Josephine Bakhita." His voice was a fluid tenor, and Pavlo had a heavy Ukrainian accent. He held out his hand. Mac rocked as the car went over another pair of deep potholes. He shook the man's hand. 

"That's a priest, right?"

"Yes, we are going to the Refuge." Evalina rattled a long string of words. Over the rough roadway Mac couldn't tell if it was Ukranian or Russian, "She says another ten minutes."

"Why have you kidnapped me?" Mac asked suppressing a soft cry of pain as his swollen knee smashed into the back of the front seat. Evalina said something and grinned. Pavlo laughed then looked at Mac with amusement. 

"She said we stole your car not you. It was your fault for sleeping in it during the day." Mac shot Pavlo a baleful glare. The man held up a hand, "You are right, this is no joke. We were watching the Oswalds trying to find where they were holding their latest victims. We saw you and your friends pull up. Your friends went inside. Evalina moved to wake you up, but the enforcers saw us. We stole the car and brought you with us so we can show you why we need your help." Mac closed his eyes and wiped away the rivulets of sweat dripping down his face. Pavlo studied him concerned, "Are you alright? You do not look well." 

"My leg...I had surgery; I think it's infected." Pavlo turned to Evalina and rattled off a long patch of Russian. Evalina looked back at Mac in the rearview mirror her eyes wide with worry. Mac tried to give a reassuring grin, but the car dipped into a pothole the size of Texas. Mac closed his eyes and groaned as his stomach churned and he hit his head against the metal frame of the door with bruising force. 

"Sorry," Evalina called turning back to the road, although calling the dirt track they were on a 'road' was a bit generous. Mac gritted his teeth. He winced at the rocking crack of the shocks and possibly struts that this route had shattered under the Shelby. Sorry, Jack. Mac silently said. He cried out as his swollen knee cracked into the back of the front seat again. The car bounced up, tilted then fell fast enough Mac's gut seemed to slosh in his throat. Something under the Shelby scraped. Then the way was smooth. Mac blinked taking a minute to catch his breath. He glanced back and blinked in surprise. The dirt path they had been climbing up seemed to vanish at a cliff edge. 

Mac took in the thick green forest and rolling wrinkled mountains around them. In the distance, he saw the white flaking skin of the Mojave desert. 

"We're in the San Gabriel National Park?" He asked surprised. Pavlo looked at him.

"We are just over the edge of the park's boundary. This plateau is owned by the Refuge." Mac could see it was a small plateau no more than a city block wide. Trees sprouted from thick scrub at edges that ended in dizzying drops down the curvy mountains. Mac could see the zigzag road that the Shelby had carried them. In places, he could see where the path had been buried under mudslides and small stone avalanches. Mac admitted he was glad he'd slept through most of the narrow, steep trip. The road they were on now was worn but not pitted by weather because of the flattened grass along its track. 

A small building sat barely visible through the scrub. Mac nodded impressed. It was a little old mission. Like most any schoolchild raised in California, he had learned about the missions monks had built along the El Camino Real. This building had the same arched cloister, the tan and grey aged stone showing under flaking white adobe, the square tower under the ladder of bells, and the dark wood carved double doors. The scrub bordered sprawling gardens of California berries, bougainvillea, tea roses, lavender and guava trees all exploding with color. Along the far side of the mission was a small graveyard. The grey markers looked like broken teeth sticking out from green grassy hair. 

Around the front, the near side and, Mac guessed, the back was a broad swath of lush green lawn. Sitting, standing and playing groups of children and adults all froze to stare at them as the Shelby approached. As they pulled up to a small parking area big enough for four cars, Mac could see the skittishness of those on the lawn. They looked like deer ready to skitter off into the woods at the first sign of trouble. Mac felt bile crawl up his throat. Victims of trafficking. Among the frightened forms walked nuns in black, white or blue habits. Some wore their religious dress from head to toe; a few wore the head scarfs of novices. Mac could also see women in Saris, priests in black, a few men in turbans and monks wearing orange strewn with wooden beads. Pavlo smiled at Mac's smile. 

"The Refuge is only one stop along a...underground railroad? like the slaves in the old war?" Mac sat back pushing his bangs back from his face.

"You have all kinds of cultures here; it's impressive." Pavlo's face turned grim. 

"Everywhere is affected by this terrible thing, many from Abbeys and orders around the world come to volunteer, and we have many generous benefactors from around the world." 

"I never knew this was up here," Mac said opening the door. He paused taking a deep breath. They were high enough out of the Los Angeles basin that the omnipresent background air pollution was gone. 

Pavlo helped Mac out of the Shelby pausing while Mac waited for the world to stop tilting.

"That is the point. Many of those rescued from trafficking, especially in America are lucky enough to have family and homes that will take them back, and they can go on to live the best lives they can. Some, however, were 'owned' by rich and prestigious people. They have to flee because of the reach of these people's power. Some of our runners have been chased by the police to be arrested themselves because of charges made to protect actors, billionaires, senators...it's disgusting." Mac nodded almost collapsing as he tried to put weight on his swollen leg. Evalina took his arm over her shoulder. He shot her a faint smile. 

"Worse, some have nowhere to return to because their family is the ones who sold them, or because of what they were made to do. In the middle east and Africa especially these victims are ostracized or sometimes outright killed. It is tragic." Mac nodded glancing at some of the faces as he stumbled past. Many were children with ancient eyes and missing teeth. Some kids who should be starting school looked like old crones, their eyes dead and hollow. It broke his heart. Mac looked up at the shrill song of bells. A third of those on the lawn rose and walked quickly into the open cloister and the double door. He blinked sweat out of his eyes. 

"It is Vespers," Pavlo answered Mac's unasked question. Mac nodded. He knew monasteries prayed around the clock. He thought Vespers was around suppertime. The sky was hazy from the damp day, but Mac thought it was easing toward sundown. He frowned. How long had he been out? Remembering his meltdown that led to his exhaustion Mac felt himself age like those around him. He looked down unable to keep his body from shaking. Evalina said something. Mac looked over into her eyes. He was surprised at their dark violet-blue color. At least the bruising had faded, and she didn't ooze blood or terror. Mac frowned. Was that only two or three days ago? Evalina said something in a tone of voice Mac knew well. He swallowed and looked away. There was no need for Pavlo to translate. Taking a deep breath, Mac looked into her eyes and nodded. He looked down not wanting to see the pity. She squeezed his arm tighter. He nodded but didn't look up. They walked into the arched cloister in silence. Mac paused and closed his eyes. He felt like crap. 

Pavlo and Evalina waited patiently. Mac took in the smooth stone of the wide hallway open on both sides. The Franciscans built in an imperfect rectangle. Cloister walks lined the four sides, and a fountain filled most of the space inside the courtyard. Mac smiled at a group of children who were jumping and splashing in a shallow koi pond. Floating lotus blossoms swayed with their splashes. 

"Do not worry there are no fish in there, well except our human ones." Pavlo said laughing. Mac chuckled. They headed down the walkway to the back of the mission. Mac was surprised to see a corner of the building had collapsed into antique rubble, "Yes, it is very sad. This building is more than two hundred years old."

"I'm surprised it isn't a historical site or museum," Mac mumbled. 

"It is too hard to reach. The Tongva once lived in these hills, and this originally held one of their mountain fortresses. Then the Franciscans came. We think this might have been an Asistencias mission, a helping church because of the difficulty reaching souls up here. All records of this place vanished. Some say the warriors who died here put a curse on the place." Pavlo shrugged, "Who knows? I say it's a gift from God and who are we to argue with that?" Mac chuckled then groaned as his right leg gave out. The priest and Evalina tried to slow his fall, but he was too heavy. Mac landed on his bad knee and yelled in pain rolling onto his back panting with agony. Everything went fuzzy, he heard Russian, and his heart broke into a sprint. For a second panic flowed through him like a fever. 

"NO! NO!" He screamed backed away from the blurred figures above him, "Jack? Where's Jack? JACK?" He crawled fast as a spider until his back hit a cold stone. He shook his head trying to clear his vision. 

"Mac?" The voice had an accent but was gentle, familiar. Mac felt small cool hands grip him, "Is ok...you...um...safe. You ok, Mac." Mac blinked Evalina's face slowly into focus. She knelt beside him her oddly colored eyes full of compassion. Mac let out a deep breath and wiped at his face with a shaking hand. 

"Sorry, just lost it a minute there." Mac said with a sad smile.

"Is ok...I...lose it...a lot too." She leaned in and gave Mac a gentle hug. Mac closed his eyes taking comfort in the friendly gesture. She smelled of lavender. The smell reminded him of his mother; he felt himself slowly relax. Mac looked up and frowned. 

"Where's Pavlo?" He asked. Evalina turned and sat beside him.

"He...get chair from hospital?" Mac nodded guessing she meant a wheelchair from a medic's office. Mac leaned his head back. The stone cooled the flames inside him, "Who, Jack?" Mac turned to Evalina with his first genuine smile. How to describe Jack for someone who didn't speak much English. Mac decided to explain him as he would to anyone else. 

"He's my brother." Evalina nodded her eyes became moist.

"I have sister. She dead." Mac reached out and took her hand squeezing it gently.

"I know, I'm sorry." Evalina closed her eyes and leaned against Mac's shoulder.

"I'm sorry too."

By the time Pavlo returned with a wheelchair, Mac was barely conscious. He felt like a giant leech had wrapped around his knee and was eating him piece by piece. Mac was hot and shivered with cold. Mac was also pretty sure he stank. Mac opened his eyes when he felt a cold metal table under him. Mac sighed. The whole room was comfortably cool. He didn't know how they'd gotten them in here, but Mac assumed it was below ground if the cracking bricks surrounding him was any indication. His eyes were heavy, and his body screamed for rest. Evalina said something to Pavlo as she covered him with a thin blanket. Mac blinked awake at footsteps pounding into the room. Someone spoke in Spanish too fast for him to follow. It didn't take a genius to hear the urgency. 

"What's wrong?" He slurred. Pavlo leaned over him his face stricken with fear.

"Your people have attacked the Grant mansion. The _pridurki_ are coming up the road." Mac blinked. He didn't speak Russian, but he could tell from the older man's tone he wasn't talking about anyone from Phoenix. Mac arched his pain. His ribs screamed as he fished out his phone. He handed it to Pavlo almost dropping it. 

"Call Jack Dalton, tell him we need reinforcements." Pavlo stared at the phone then grinned. Mac dropped his empty hand not having enough strength to hold it up. His eyes slid closed like broken curtains in a poorly built theater. Pavlo gently put Mac's arm under the covers and frowned. Taking a guess, he hit #1 figuring if anyone would be the first on speed dial it would be Mac's brother. Pavlo raised an eyebrow at the female voice that answered Jack's phone. 

"Blondie? Where are you?"

"MacGyver needs some medical attention. He told me to call you and say send reinforcements." Pavlo felt his heart beat drag with fear. Would this woman believe him? Would they help them?

"Ok, first of all, who are you?" Pavlo let loose a long breath of relief and forced himself to speak slower in English as he answered everything the woman, Matty, asked. Evalina sat on a stool on the other side of Mac swabbing his face with a damp cloth. The girl watched hope in her eyes. Pavlo grinned as he turned the phone off. 

"They are coming to help." He said in Russian. Evalina's eyes moistened.

"Thanks be to God." She murmured. They might survive tonight after all. As she swabbed sweat off the blond's hot red face, she again thanked the young man for saving her life. 


	9. Chapter 9

Water was dripping...it always starts with the constant pinging of drops against stone ticking time like a seconds hand on a broken watch. Like a hammer tapping against a nail, like a whip cracking against his skin constantly and inevitable. If Mac ever allowed himself to think about it, which he never did or would do, he'd guess it was out of place. In a rock cave, in the middle of the desert how could there be enough water to drip uncollected and ignored? Or maybe he'd be thankful there was something to focus on other than the constant pain, the echo of his screams, the blurring confusion caused by drugs that made him sick.

That day was no different than the two preceding it-beatings, questions, drugs, the occasional respite of unconsciousness and continuous fog of pain and confusion. In the back of his mind a tiny sliver of sanity lay curled safely ignored, Jack would come to save him. As sure as tomorrow, he knew that, clung to it as he fought for the next breath, screamed the next scream, saw it in every drop of his blood tapping against the stone. Mac just had to get through the next second, the next minute, the next hour, the next day until the scruffy face of his best friend poked through the haze and carried him to safety. He just had to hold on. That day was different; They managed to do what no one had ever done before, break his world. Mac lost everything that mattered. Mac moaned as he felt the rough hands bending him a harsh and painful as the grating Russian...then cold exposure...then nothing but PAIN, SHAME, and brokenness in places he never thought an enemy could reach.

Mac screamed. Everything was blurry, voices, faces…

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" He yelled, backing away in panic. Every cell of his skin burned, hyperaware to threats of violation.

"Mac…" Mac felt hands against his burning skin, the touch hurting more than the fire. He yanked his arm free and pushed back. He fell and landed heavily on stone. Mac yelled in agony as his knee exploded into pain. People crouched beside him, some part of his brain knew it was different. This now wasn't that then, but he felt the same panic spiral through his body-stealing his control, "Mac, easy kiddo." Mac wanted to cling to the voice, he knew it meant safety…

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"It's ok; no one's going to touch you. You're safe. Kilov's not here; he's dead remember?" Mac blinked and shook his head. His chest hurt, as if feeling it himself Mac could hear Jack, "C'mon brother, breathe." Mac's body automatically responded. Mac reached out a hand...please let his lifeline be real! Mac shook his head.

"Jack?" He murmured. Jack's worried frown stepped through his murky world leading him back to sanity, back to now. Mac took in his surroundings and slumped in relief. No cave, no dripping, no Kilov… Mac curled forward shoving the sharp edge of stabbing pain back into his gut. Mac moaned and forced himself to look up. He was sprawled on the brick floor of the mission's cellar. He rubbed his shoulder. It had been a good four feet from the table to the floor, "Ouch." He said softly offering Jack a small smile. Jack nodded.

"No, kidding. You ok?" Jack tone was familiar. Mac narrowed his eyes and focused on him. Jack's silent question was 'we're in a world of shit can you keep it together?' Mac nodded then frowned. Jack looked haggard. He was pale. Bloody bandages lined his chest and leg. The older man looked ready to drop.

"What's going on? Are you ok?" Jack let out a breath and nodded. He pushed off the brick wall and swayed to his feet. Mac jumped as others moved around him. He looked up startled.

"It's ok, Mac." Doc Carl said gently. Pavlo smiled but wisely said nothing. Mac assumed it was the old man speaking Russian that sent him into a tailspin. Mac nodded and accepted the doctor's hands helping him climb to his feet. Mac almost fell over. He looked down. His knee had swelled to the size of a melon, and yellowish fluid oozed through his shiny, taut skin. He frowned and put his arms across Doc Carl's and Jack's shoulders. The eased him back onto the metal table. Mac allowed them to straighten his right leg but refused to lay down. He met Jack's eyes.

"Ok, what's going on?"

"Well, we raided Grant's wannabe mansion. No confirmed kill on Grant. I'm assuming he squirmed his way out, that's what cockroaches do." Jack growled. Mac smiled feeling a sense of balance returning to him. Jack didn't notice, "twenty to thirty guys are heading up this way. I came up in a Blackhawk, so we got Riley, the doc here, Cage, Alpha and Beta with us. This place is a good set up for defense." Mac studied Jack's eyes.

"Then why aren't you happier?" Jack ran a hand through his hair.

"Grant bragged that he has a bomb planted on you somewhere." Mac's eyes widened, and his heart pounded. He looked down and realized they had changed his clothes out of loose sweats and a too-tight T-shirt. His brace was gone.

"Crutches? Brace?" Mac asked. Jack shook his head.

"Nothing. We took those down to scrap metal. Riley even ran a detector thingy over it." Mac nodded frowning. His eyes fell to his knees, and he felt his gut splash onto the floor, "Wha- no way, dude."

"What?" Doc Carl asked confused. Most of the time when the two men were spitballing the doctor had learned to stay quiet and wait. Mac looked at him with haunted eyes.

"My knee, the explosive is on my knee." Doc Carl let out a nervous laugh.

"No, it couldn't…" Doc Carl stared at the round knee. That would explain the infection and swelling, but how…

"Ok, Jack I need your EOD knife," Mac said with determination. Both men stared at him.

"Mac, let me get my scalpel and I can…" Mac shook his head adamant.

"Look, it's a bomb. Metal could set it off. I have to disarm it like any other bomb. Judging by the swelling, there's probably enough explosive packed around the joint to kill everyone here." Mac eyed Jack steadily. Jack closed his eyes and pulled his folding ceramic knife out from a pouch in his vest. Mac's hands were steady as he took it. He glanced at Doc Carl, "You should get out of here?" Doc Carl shook his head.

"I'll go when you go." Mac glanced at Jack who gave him a raised eyebrow. Mac nodded and leaned forward. His heart bounced with fever, pain, and dread. It took all of his will to push that aside as he slowly pressed down into his flesh. Mac gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. On the plus side, as soon as it broke open the pus and blood spewed out in a thick continuous wash. The painful pressure eased. Mac cut a straight line through the zigzag stitches of Grant. He set down the knife. His body shook as if it were at ground zero of an earthquake. He was aware of Jack and the Doc talking to him. Mac grimly shoved everything aside focusing on the gaping wet wound.

Mac cried out in pain as he leaned forward and probed the wound with his hands spreading the flesh aside. He could hear notes of horror in his friend's voice, but there was no other way to reach the bomb. Mac closed his eyes and concentrated on what he felt with his hands. Finally, he felt the hard bone of his knee and the ridge of the artificial joint. He followed along that until he felt a small wire. Mac sucked in a shaky breath feeling nauseated. He shook his head stubbornly refusing to pass out. He knew all their lives depended on it. His fingers wrapped around a thick block that felt like clay wrapped around his femur. He grabbed it as firmly as he could and yanked.

Mac screamed and fell back a bloody ball in his hand. Jack closed his eyes sure he was going to puke. Doc Carl moved forward and wrapped Mac's knee in clean towels trying to staunch the constant gush of fluid. Mac's body shook. He shot Jack a pleading look and held out the bloody ball.

"Pull...wires…" Mac managed to mouth through white lips and paler skin. Jack grimaced as he took the bloody knob and turned it until he felt two wires. He pulled them out of the putty just as they sparked. Jack closed his eyes and let out a long breath. They had been that close. Jack set aside the would-be killer bomb and took Mac's hand. He winced at the wet stickiness on both of their fists.

"We got it." Jack murmured. Mac's eyes hung like slings full of rocks. He offered a weak smile then passed out. Jack automatically turned to Doc Carl who was sweating as he packed the wound with QuickClot and held the wound closed for the bandage to harden and seal. He looked up at Jack with wide eyes.

"Is it always like this in the field?" The young doctor's voice was breathless. Jack smiled and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Nah, today's a good day." Doc Carl gaped at Jack in utter disbelief, "Look after m'boy, doc. I'm gonna go shore up security and get ready for the bad guys." Doc Carl nodded. Evalina came running into the room.

"They almost here." She said her Russian accent stronger with her excitement. Jack nodded his face stormy.

"Let's show them what we think of them." He growled. Evalina smiled and pushed back the long side of hair.

"Yes, _davay ispogadim ikh!_ " Jack had no idea what that translated to, but the vicious glint in the girl's eyes told him all he had to know. Neither would be happy until Grant's head was on a platter served up to starving coyotes.

Jack stood on the edge of the plateau and frowned. He could make out the dim lights of Grant's small caravan intermittently. The mission was almost invisible in the darkness. Cage and Nellie ran to join Jack and Evalina. Jack pushed a com into his ear.

"We have some of the aggro sisters guarding the ankle biters and the older women in the chapel with Pavlo." Jack raised an eyebrow. Cage's Aussie roots showed more when she was emotional. He supposed his Texican did too.

"Ok, you two take the teams and start head hunting. I'll go to the tower and provide overwatch."They nodded to turn away, "Oh and ladies, three weeks off to anyone who brings me Lazlo's head, attached or not."

"We'd do that for free," Nellie said with a sweet smile. Cage tapped her on the shoulder.

"Don't tell him that." Jack rolled his eyes and ran to the tower. He had Bertha set up on her tripod ready to sing. The Barret M82 had been with him in so many battles, the sniper rifle felt like a third arm. He clicked the iron cover off the night vision scope and tugged back the safety. He felt an icy calm come over him. Fighting hand to hand brought out his inner brawler, filled him with the charge of adrenaline and excitement. When Jack looked into Bertha's scope, Jack's calm, deadly analytical side surfaced. He half listened to chatter between the teams on coms. The black vehicles had stopped behind a thick brush of yearling trees. Jack waited patiently. He grinned as a shadow poked his head out. With the green night vision, the man might just have well held up a flag demanding Jack to shoot him.

"Well, if you insist." Jack whispered to himself. He tugged the trigger and grinned, the man dropping to the ground before the bark of the rifle echoed across the mountains. Jack sighed in contentment as two more targets exposed themselves as they bent over their comrade.

"Chumps," Jack said. The two hit the ground at the same time. The shots belched out so quickly the thundering boom sounded like a single shot. The rest of the invaders got the memo and kept their hineys stuck to the ground. Jack waited as patiently as a black widow in the center of her web. Positionally the attackers had a hell of a disadvantage. They had to come up a steep incline then cross a stretch of open ground before they could reach the mission. In their favor were their number. Jack planned to scavenge every scrap of an advantage he had for as long as he could.

The TAC soldiers wore square patches visible only to Jack's scope. Jack shot anything else that moved. As they neared, Jack started to hear the screams of his victims and saw spurts of controlled fire from Phoenix's M5s. Jack held out until the first three cleared the edge of the cliff. He zipped them then moved to the steep steps down to ground level. Being on the only point where a sniper could perch would make him an easy target for their Kalishnikov AK-12s. He folded the stock and stooped behind a garden wall. Bertha had a muzzle brake that reduced the recoil by over 70%. If she didn't, Jack would be picking his shattered shoulder off the stone floor. He braced himself and started firing in short automatic bursts as figures in black without badges crept through the high grass.

"They are like cockroaches," Jack mumbled. Jack could see more movement closer to the mission and smiled as he recognized his TAC crew sneaking up on the enemy and taking them out with a silence Jack was pretty damn proud of.

"They're coming in the graveyard!" Nellie yelled breathless.

"I got it, Jenkins and Carter, on me!" Jack saw the three break into a sprint in a diagonal to his right. He saw four enemies raise Kalishnikovs. Jack had three clean kills; one jumped, so he was only wounded. He managed to lift his weapon and fire on the Phoenix team. Jack saw a flash of light colored hair through his scope. One of the three fell unmoving to the ground.

"Son of a bitch!" Jack growled. He bugged out and sprinted closer covering his teammate and finishing the job on the wounded enemy. Out of the corner of his eye behind him, he saw at least seven black-clad figures sprint through the cloister arches. Jack jumped. Suddenly a sound broke through the night; it was a cross between a loud snake's rattle and a banshee warble. It was creepy as hell. Jack realized where he'd heard it before-Xena, Warrior Princess. Jack vaguely remembered Mac explaining the many Mediterranean and middle eastern women used that when facing trouble-uvulating? Ovulating? Something like that. Jack shook his head. He could understand why. Having that hair-raising cat growl come out of black night freaked him the fuck out.

He smiled at startled screams of pain and the sound of splashing. The sisters had boiled water to throw at their enemies. The monks and some of the older kids had grabbed anything they could as weapons-knives, brooms, frying pans-whatever could be thrown, swung, or stabbed at the bad guys was swinging in use.

Jack had a moment to think of the Alamo. What a different battle it might have been if the men had just stepped aside and sicked the girls on ol' Antonio Anna's crew. Jack didn't have a chance to chide himself for his inattention. He whirled to face movement, and a pistol-whipped across his head. He fell back against a column shaking his head to clear it. His attacker, one of a group of three, kicked him in his thigh where he got shot. Jack grunted as his leg caved. Another blow across his head flattened him bleeding to the hard stone. Jack lost Bertha in the blurry confusion. He blindly lashed out with a boot catching one guy in the gut. Another opponent raised his boot to crush Jack's chest. Jack managed to grab the man's foot like a football stopping its momentum. He arched his hip and pivoted using his hip torque to twist the man's foot enough that bones crunched. The man screamed and slumped to the ground.

Jack's heart froze as he saw one of the other men aim a Kalashnikov at his head. Before Jack could blink, the man was thrown to the side by a deadly blow to his head. Jack kicked the last man's feet out from under him and pulled the man's head to his chest. Jack leaned back with a twist and cleanly snapped the man's neck. He looked up. Evalina held Bertha by the barrel as if the rifle was a baseball bat. Jack winced. It was a miracle the girl didn't blow her head off. Jack took the girl's hand and pushed himself to his feet. He took the rifle and put on the safety. He frowned at the crumbling glass that fell from the night scope.

"I'm sorry." Evalina said. Jack grinned and pulled her into a quick hug.

"Don't be; I was almost agoner!" Evaline nodded even though she didn't understand Jack's slang, "'sides won't be the first time." Of course, normally it was Mac pulling it apart to make a laser or microwave or whatever. He glanced around him. He heard shoes, but no boots. There was no sound of violence, "Sound off!" All of Phoenix was alive. Cage had a bullet in her thigh, but Doc Carl was already at her side. Jack sighed and looked down at Evalina. In the dim light of the stars, he could see reflections from her multitude of piercings and teeth. He could feel her body relax under the arm he draped across her soldiers.

"Alright everybody, let's get some lights on out here and clean up…" Jack stopped dead when he heard a familiar voice scream from the basement of the chapel.

"MAC!" Jack screamed running at double time. Shit.


	10. Chapter 10

Mac sat up cocking his head. He heard the cries of children and the sound of distant gunfire. Mac closed his eyes. He felt like crap. He heard shouting. Mac pushed himself off the metal table and almost fell to the floor again. Mac leaned over the table shaking his right leg. He looked around the room and spied Jack's ceramic knife folded on the medical bedside table. Mac grabbed it and the IV pole. He leaned on the pole and hobbled his way out of the room. Mac followed the cries of pain and fear to a room off to the side. He paused in the doorway. Kids of all sizes huddled against the wall. Riley stood in front of them her arms outstretched. She faced two guys with guns pointed at the kids.

Mac frowned looking around him. He smiled finding a musty pile of hymnals. He stacked up three and pulled the tubing off the empty IV bag. He hefted it and shrugged. He limped to the doorway and swung the books with all his strength. The man closest to him staggered stunned. Mac moved closer grabbed the leather sling for the mans Kalishnikov and cut the weapon off the man's body. He yanked on the strap and tightened it around the guy's neck. Mac's knee gave out, and he fell backward. The guy landed on his bad knee, of course. Mac screamed but pulled the leather tighter into the man's throat. He just hoped the bad guy passed out before he did.

Riley saw Mac's move and used the distraction to attack. She ran full speed at the thug then jumped and twisted catching the man in the chest with both boots. She landed on a side plank and kicked the fallen man in the knee. The man grunted and scrambled to bring his gun up to fire. Riley rolled face down, and mule kicked with both feet. The man let out a whoof and bent over the wind knocked out of him. Riley crouched low grabbed the man's head and pulled him over her back. The man landed hard spread-eagled on his back. Riley grabbed the gun and slammed it across the man's face. The man didn't move again. Riley kicked him in the neck annoyed. She turned to the kids. They watched her with wide-eyed surprise.

Riley ran to Mac's side. The blond was paler and more fragile than a snowflake. Blood dripped down his face, and his eyes were barely open. Riley bent down and hauled the man off Mac. Mac rolled onto his side coughing. He managed a weak smile. His chest heaved as he fought to take in air. Riley crouched.

"Mac, your knee." She said worriedly. Mac looked down. He wasn't surprised to see the Quick Clot cracked and his knee bleeding again, he was surprised to see a broken bone sticking out the side of his leg and the metal joint sticking out of the open wound.

"Oh, crap," Mac muttered. Riley looked at Mac panic in her eyes.

"What do we do? Does it hurt?" Mac shook his head. Everything was getting fuzzy.

"It's fine. I think everything is quieting down outside." Riley rolled her eyes.

"Fine? Fine, my ass. You stay here; I'm gonna go get Doc Carl, do not move!" Mac waved a hand tiredly. She dashed away.

"Not planning on...moving," Mac mumbled. He laid flat and looked at the scared kids, "Hi, my names MacGyver. Are you all ok?"

"Are you going to die?" One of the smaller boys asked. Mac blinked at him.

"I hope not. Any of you hurt?" Before they could answer, all of their eyes looked up in terror. Mac saw movement above him.

"Crap." He managed before hands lifted him off the stone floor and slammed him into the wall. Mac felt air whoosh out of him. The man's face was almost scraped off, but Mac could see the familiar features and cold eyes breakthrough. He gasped in panic. The man leaned forward. His bloody goatee tickled Mac's ear as he started rattling off something in Russian. Mac froze all the terror liquid frost stilling his bones and muscles. Lazlo Grant dragged him into the medical room and slammed his face down on the table.

His face smeared across the cold metal snapped him out of it. No, not again. Mac realized he still had Jack's knife folded in his pocket. Mac dug it out with his left hand. He screamed pivoting on his broken knee bringing his right elbow up and back. Mac scored the older man's ear. Grant pulled away but overbalanced he tilted to the grounding. Mac screamed as his torn knee twisted under the man's bulk. Mac lost the knife as he tried to yank his knee free. Mac followed Grant to the stone floor in a desperate attempt to keep his leg in mostly one piece. 

Mac ended up sprawled across Grant's midsection. Mac stared down in horror. He saw Kilov. Panic and rage scorched his brain. He roared and slammed down with his fist. He heard the dripping, felt the fingers, the pain, the screams. The world became a bloody crazed swirl of past and present. Mac screamed and lashed out over and over. He didn't feel Grant grab Jack's knife and stab him in the chest. He didn't feel the bones in his hand shatter as he destroyed the man's face. Mac didn't feel the blows the weakening man managed to plow into his head.

Mac didn't notice when the bloody mess under him stopped moving and became a hot mushy pile of bone and brain.

Arms grabbed Mac around the chest and pulled him away. Mac fought howling with rage and frustration. He lashed out at the blurry shadows flitting around him. Mac pushed against the table trying to knock the man holding him off balance. He felt his opponent grab his arms. Panic surged through him. No, not again. He threw his head back. His captor swerved his chin aside.

"Mac! Mac, dammit!" Mac squirmed, the familiar voice not registering, "Damn it, Angus CHILL OUT!" Mac felt arms pull him into a bear hug that was surprisingly gentle, "Easy brother, breathe. It's ok" Mac began to shake, his lungs pumped hard desperately trying to draw in oxygen, "Shh, easy, brother, it's over you're safe. Breathe, kiddo." Mac's legs gave out. Jack lowered him slowly.

"Jack?" Mac whispered. Everything was disjointed and made no sense.

"Yeah, buddy. You're ok." Mac blinked and shook his head. He startled back. Doc Carl knelt in front of him, Riley and Evalina squatted on either side of the doctor.

"Mac, can I help you?" Mac blinked at the young doctor puzzled.

"I'm fine." Mac's voice was drowsy and a little slurred. He leaned back against Jack's chest.

"You aren't fine, kiddo. You're bleeding from a hundred places, and your knee is totally messed up." Mac looked down at his twisted, broken knee puzzled.

"It's ok; I can fix it. It's only a hinge joint. I could…" Mac trailed off as his gaze moved to Grant's remains. It took a minute for him to process what his eyes were seeing.

"Mac, c'mon kiddo. We need to get you back to Phoenix." Jack stood. Mac hung limply in his arms. Doc Carl moved forward to take half of Mac's weight. Riley turned the flashlight on her phone on and led the way out of the basement. Mac stared at Grant's body fascinated. Jack glanced at him then over the blond's head at Doc Carl. Doc Carl looked as worried as the older man felt.

"Huh. Ok." Mac turned to face forward and hopped on his left leg trying to help the two men haul him out to the helicopter. Nellie barked orders at the Phoenix TAC teams securing the site. Cage stood up and limped over to them. A thick white bandage circled her narrow left thigh. She glanced at Jack alarmed.

"Mac, you ok?" He looked at her and smiled.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Mac, do you hurt anywhere?" Doc Carl asked. Mac shrugged.

"No, I'm fine." He looked over at Jack, "are you ok? You look like crap?"

"I'll be good once we got you settled in. You're in shock now, but that's going to wear off soon, and you're gonna be hurting." Mac frowned at him.

"I'm fine!" He protested. Everyone helped Mac sprawl across the floor of the Blackhawk. Cage knelt beside Doc Carl and helped the doctor get oxygen and monitors on Mac. Mac rolled his eyes and huffed, "I don't see why you're making such a big d...d...deal…" Mac's face bleached white almost gray.

"Mac?" Jack called from the pilot's seat as he smoothly lifted off.

"I feel...not...not so good." Mac burbled. Doc Carl looked over at Cage. Together they tilted Mac. Riley held a puke bag as Mac jackknifed and spewed. Riley looked up alarmed when she saw blood in it.

"It's the stab wound." Doc Carl explained. Mac's eyes went wide, and he began to gasp for air. They could hear his wheezes over the loud throbbing of the rotors. Mac blindly reached out and grabbed the doctor's sleeve.

"Jack? Where's Jack?" Everyone in the helicopter could feel Mac's panic. Jack leaned over and looked at him.

"Easy, brother. I'm driving. Take some deep breaths for me, ok?"

"I...I can't...hurts…" Riley shooed Cage out of the way and knelt beside Mac. She held his hand in hers and with her other hand gently brushed her fingers through his hair. Mac was cold and clammy, "R...Ri…" Mac said with relief. Riley smiled down.

"It's ok, Mac. Everybody's here. Nothing's gonna happen to you, I promise." Mac studied her face and managed a weak smile. His eyes were slumping closed longer and longer. Doc Carl landed an IV, got fluids running and shot something into his arm all in three easy moves. Mac's body slowly began to relax. Doc Carl looked at Cage.

"Call Matty; we need an Ortho surgeon as fast as she can find one. If we can't get that leg taken care of, he could lose it." Cage nodded and pulled out her phone.

"Tell her to get one that's not psycho this time even if he is pretty," Riley muttered. Mac chuckled. Riley looked down confused.

"Mac, what are you laughing at?"

"It's ok...I can build a leg...cool too...laser...hydrolic…" Mac's eyes floated closed, and he was out.


	11. Epilogue

Mac moaned and put up a hand to block bright light bearing down on him from above.

"Stop already." He mumbled. His mouth felt dry and slimy. He had a familiar sore throat. Everything was blurry. Mac grimaced-surgery. Mac could feel a general haze of pain muted through a limp heaviness in all his limbs. The docs must have been giving him a lot of potent meds. The light dimmed. Mac blinked against nausea as he opened his eyes and everything whirred around him. His head felt like it'd gotten caught in the wrong end of a blender. His knee screamed with every wriggle and Mac thought swimming under water for a year would be easier to breathe through.

"Morning, kiddo." Mac tried to squint loose red shadows. Jack's face slowly crept into focus. Mac winced rubbing his head.

"Morning?" Mac frowned. He sounded drunk. When had he gotten drunk? Jack chuckled.

"Yeah, Friday morning." Mac nodded and closed his eyes. Almost a full minute later he shot a look at Jack.

"Friday? What happened? Wh- oh." Mac's mouth snapped shut. Mac put his palm against his forehead with a groan. Jack leaned forward.

"Mac?" Mac slowly opened his eyes.

"Everybody 'k?"

"Yeah, Cage had a through and through in her thigh. Otherwise, everybody came through it without a scratch." Mac's eyes sank shut. He nodded. He paused then frowned. He turned to Jack but didn't open his eyes.

"Do I still have m'leg?"

"Yeah, buddy you do."

"Shame...coulda been fun…" Mac relaxed back then forced his eyes back open, " What about Evalina, the Refuge?" Jack looked down.

"They're gone." Mac's eyes flew open, and he tightened as if to get up. Jack put a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "It's ok, Mac. They had to move. Too many people knew about the mission after all this. Matty got the government to give them a chunk of change for the mission as a nest egg." Mac rubbed his eyes. Spiderwebs seemed to sew his lashes shut. He felt a pang of loss. He liked Evalina, although every time they got together ended up with Mac beat and in the hospital.

"Glad they're ok." Mac's voice was a heavy slur. He gave up the battle and shut his eyes. Mac mumbled something Jack couldn't make out then tilted his head to the side and fell asleep. Jack chuckled and shook his head. He leaned on the side railing and absently brushed Mac's hair away from his sweaty face. Jack closed his eyes and sat back. He winced and stretched. The bandage on his side itched like crazy. Jack looked up and smiled. Sally stood in the doorway.

"He's asleep," Jack said. Sally nodded and came in. She leaned over Mac adjusting his covers, "You know you can come in when he's awake. He was out of his head." Sally smiled sadly.

"I know that I don't blame him."

"Then what?" Jack caught her arm and turned her to face him. She pulled loose strands of red hair from her face.

"It's something I have to work through, Jack. He doesn't need anything else on his plate right now." Jack opened his mouth. Sally squeezed his shoulder and left before he could get a word out. Jack frowned puzzled. He knew the woman cared for Mac, maybe as much as he did. Why was she hiding from the kid? Jack looked down at Mac. Mac would feel guilty about slapping Sally, and he knew Sally wouldn't want to pile anything on, but Jack felt there was more going on than he knew. Jack ran his hand through his hair.

Mac moaned. Jack turned to the blond frowning. Mac had been in and out for the last two days. He'd had emergency surgery to save his leg, but still had two more to go. The surgeon, Carlotta Patel, didn't have much of a bedside manner but she knew her shit. She kept Mac sedated to keep him from moving his fragile joint. In another three days, he'd have his second surgery. After that, Carlotta thought Mac could be up with crutches for the six weeks before his final surgery.

While he was out, Mac would thrash caught in nightmares or terrors regularly. When he was a little lucid, he had no memory of them. A small grace, Jack thought. Mac's breathing increased he raised a hand as if to push someone away.

"No…" Mac slurred something under his breath. His eyes opened, and he pushed back against the bed, "Don't touch me...Don't…" Jack gritted his teeth. It hurt not to be able to hold his brother's hand to comfort him, but any touch agitated Mac more.

"Hey, kiddo, it's ok. It's just you and me no bad guys. You're safe, I promise." Mac stared at him blankly then blinked. He smiled and drifted off to sleep. Jack reached out and held Mac's hand. At first, Mac gasped but then rolled closer to Jack. Jack smiled and rubbed Mac's upper arm gently.

"Easy, brother. You're safe."

After his second surgery, the emotional fallout became apparent. Mac barely slept and when he did he'd jump awake terrified and wouldn't let anyone touch him. Mac was jittery and restless. He refused to stay home. Mac rode in with Bozer every day. In his defense, he did try to work in the lab or help with paperwork, but he couldn't focus or sit still long enough to get anything done. The only useful thing he managed to do was PT and the daily assessments Doc Carl insisted on having. Mac gave in with unusual acquiescence.

The rest of the time Mac paced the halls of Phoenix at a loss. Everyone around him visited with him and shoved food at him which he ate without a fight. Jack tried everything he could think of to calm the kid down, get him to talk or at least stop fretting in circles. But Mac was too restless; he found every excuse to prowl the building. The world was out of kilter; everything was off somehow. Mac felt like he had to find something or do something to fix it, but had no clue what.

When he tried to stay home and rest, Kilov chased and trapped him from every shadow or glint of movement. His skin felt taunt, see through, easily torn. So Mac paced. His body screamed in a symphony of agony as he traveled floor to floor with his creaking crutches.

One day he found himself staring through the door of Sally's empty office. It was dim compared to the harsh fluorescents of the medical unit. The couch along one wall looked soft and invited him to curl into its gentle hold. He could hear the trickle of a small fountain and saw a tiny splash of water run down a heap of stones in the corner. Mac found himself relaxing without knowing why. He turned and almost screamed. Sally watched him a wry smile on her elfin features. Her arms crossed her chest. She wore olive scrubs, and her dark red hair had strands hanging loosely from her ponytail.

"Scare you?" She asked. Mac studied her. He didn't see any of the fear he thought would be there only amusement. Mac felt his hackles rise.

"No, I was just resting a minute." His answer was cold and abrupt. Sally nodded and stepped aside. Mac took two steps back then paused.

"Can I talk to you?" He blurted having no idea why he would want to go into the viper's den. Sally smiled.

"Of course." Mac slid-hopped over to her couch then plopped in it. He set his crutches aside and ran his hand along the soft plush cushions. It was more blissfully comfortable than it had looked. Sally shut the door and pulled a chair out from behind her desk and sat facing him. Mac looked everywhere but her face.

"Nice couch." He blurted his throat scratchy.

"I know. I have one at home just like it." An awkward silence stretched between them. Sally leaned forward, and Mac fought not to squirm away, "Mac, I'm not leaving. I was going to." Mac stared down at his hand, "Not because of what happened. I know you were in a bad place, but because I couldn't help you." Mac looked up at her, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. She smiled and sat back sighing.

"I know you hate me, Mac. But a long time ago I promised myself that I would do anything I could to keep you healthy and helping others. When I saw how terrified you were...you were in a place I couldn't reach, it scared me. Then when Jack couldn't help you either, I guess I freaked out a bit." Mac looked down and cleared his throat.

"I don't hate you." He mumbled. Emotions and thoughts swirled around him; he had no idea what he was doing there. He couldn't deny the relief he felt at the idea of Sally leaving, but at the same time, there was a wrongness about it.

"Thank you." She said. Mac looked up surprised. Sally seemed genuinely happy as if he'd just given her an expensive handmade gem. Mac did not understand the woman. They were silent another long minute, this time it was more comfortable. The fountain's soft burbling gave the room an extra sense of peace. Mac felt that he was inside under shelter watching a raging storm outside the window. It left him confused and off-kilter.

"We had a mission in Farah. There was this Russian named Kilov who was smuggling weapons to ISIS…" Mac had no idea why but he found himself telling her the whole story-every pain, every touch, every scream. Somewhere along the line she moved to his side and held his hand. Then his body started shaking, and tears left a wet mask across his face suffocating him. Mac watched it from far away, floating up against the ceiling somehow. He saw it all again, felt it again, but this time it was someone else's story he'd heard a long time ago. Mac might have talked for 5 minutes or 50 years. No matter how hard he tried, Mac would never remember what he told her or why. When he finished, he curled up and cried as if his belly was vomiting tears.

"Mac? You ok?" Sally asked gently. Mac blinked. He realized he'd gone still. Mac's limbs tingled, and he felt jittery and exposed inside. He sat up surprised to find she had held him through the worst of it. He swallowed and looked away. Sally crossed to her desk and handed him a box of kleenex without a word and pushed the rolling chair behind the desk. Mac felt exhausted but better, freed from a heaviness he hadn't realized he'd been carrying. Oddly, he knew he was ready to talk to Jack, to stop pacing. Mac let out a deep breath his fatigue catching up to him. As he blew his nose and dabbed his eyes, Mac stared at the carpet.

"I don't know why I told you that. I never even told Jack." Mac mumbled. He watched Sally's worn sneakers cross the floor to the door.

"I have to go help Laura with orientation, for some reason she scares the crap out of recruits. I should be gone at least two hours. Why don't you test out the couch for me?" As she spoke, she crossed to a cabinet and pulled out fluffy pillows and blankets. She sat them beside Mac and turned to leave without a word.

"Thanks," Mac whispered. Sally paused but didn't say a word as she pulled the door shut behind her. Mac made a soft cocoon and laid down enjoying the cushy cloud of warm safety. He closed his eyes. The friendly gurgle of the fountain helped his body relax, and he slid into a deep sleep free of nightmares for the first time in months.

Through the window in the door, Sally watched Mac relax and drift off to sleep. She felt something unknot inside her. A fond smile played over her lips as she wiped away a string of tears.

"Thank you, kiddo. I'll keep it safe, I promise." Sally whispered. She sighed and straightened her shoulders. Time to rescue trainees from Laura then she was going to take Jack to lunch. It was past time they made a plan to snap Mac back to health.


End file.
